The Secrets Her Heart Keeps
by Danilynn87
Summary: Regina is finally accepted amongst her people and is ready to be crowned The Good Queen over all the realms, but there's only one person that she wishes were there during her coronation. Even if that means digging up old wounds that occurred on a graduation trip for Henry so many years ago.
1. Chapter One

_A/N: I know some people don't care for first person point of view, but I ask that you please give this one a chance. I put a lot of heart into this story and worked very hard on it! Please enjoy!! _

My heart thunders violently in my chest as all the air evaporates from my lungs, forcing a small gasp to break through my quivering lips. For once in my life, I am stunned into complete silence while my arms nervously bounce off the fluff of my elaborate dress.

My eyes finally tear away from the sparkling jewels intricately decorating the crown presented to me, to meet David's soft blue eyes. His ocean irises are shimmering in a sea of emotions. Snow is a bubbling mess beside her husband, but Charming isn't far from crumbling as my eyes meet his watery smile.

I slowly spin around to confirm that this _is_ indeed what all the realms would truly want. For some peculiar reason, truly undisclosed in my mind, I find myself seeking the approval of only one person in this crowded room. My eyes scan the overpopulated expanse where our stories all began; an encouraging smile from my sister, an overjoyed expression from my niece and her girlfriend along with the new Hook and proud smiles upon both versions of my son.

I swallow thickly as all eyes are on me, expectantly watching through watery smiles, but mine falters. My brows draw automatically together from the sudden ache clinging painfully to my heart and the sensation of feeling miserably alone.

"Are you ready?" David gently questions tearing my eyes away from the crowd, but only for a brief second, before I'm in search again.

"Uh," I stammer as I contemplate whether or not I should even ask. My arms anxiously twitch at my sides again, bouncing once more from the width of my powder blue dress like the nervous princess I once was when Leopold proposed. I glance down and summon all the courage necessary to question my curiosity. I lean forward and lower my voice for only the Charmings to hear. "Is _everyone_ here?" I softly inquire with every bit of nerves tingling my limbs.

Even in a crowded room, with all eyes on me, there's only one person I'm in search for. Only one person's opinion that matters to me.

Only one.

XXXXXXXXX 

_Storybrooke: Before Henry ever left, in search for his own story_

"Henry! We are going to be late, honey!"

I shake my head at my son's untimely manner in which he inherited from his blonde mother, without a doubt. I adjust the silver charm decorating my wrist and smile at the Mother's Day present Henry purchased this year. Even though I have a sneaky suspicion the purchase was to soften me up for something I haven't a clue of just yet. I smile fondly as the light catches the simple diamond bracelet in just the right way, sparkling brightly in the reflection of the mirror before me.

The doorbell rings, prying my eyes away from the beautiful gift and forcing me to realize just how late we must be if Emma is ready before our son. My lips twist from my son's tardiness as my heels click against my marble floors toward the front door.

"Henry!" I call out again just before I swing open the door. I smile softly as Emma and Hook appear before me upon my porch.

"Regina."

"Hook."

"Hi."

"Good morning," I step aside allowing the couple to enter and gently close the door behind them. "Your son can't seem to put his feet to work this morning," I mock as a warm vanilla scent wafts through the air around me.

_Her signature scent._

Emma spins around on her heels and flashes me her infamous cheeky grin, producing that adore dimple I always pretend not to notice. "I have no idea where he gets his ability to always be late. I think it's only safe to assume Neal bequeathed that trait to our son."

"Yes Miss Swan, his inapt concept of time has nothing to do with you," I sarcastically retort as I purse out my lips and fold my arms across my chest, just daring the woman to challenge me, like she used to.

Emma spins back around abruptly and leans closer toward the staircase. "Henry! Move your butt!"

"I'm coming, jeesh," our son gripes as his heavy feet clash against each step with determination and what I can only assume is frustration. The thumping sound once drove me mad when he was younger, but now I happily welcome the sound knowing soon I will be drowning in the silence surrounding my home. "This stupid tie..." he mumbles to himself as his long fingers fumble with his silky black tie.

"Come here my dear," I softly instruct. "I thought you had ties figured out after your mother's wedding?" I raise one eyebrow as my fingers reach for his tie and he throws down his arms in defeat.

"I did. I YouTubed it, but I don't know something's not right...every time I try, I swear it looks lopsided."

"You sure you're just not nervous, kid?" Emma questions in a teasing manner while leaning into our son's personal space, eliciting a small smirk to tug at the corner of my mouth.

"Why would I be nervous?" Our son snaps anxiously, revealing just how nervous he truly is. "I'm just graduating."

Out of my peripheral vision, I watch as Emma eyes me with amusement, but I continue dutifully knotting the tie before me and ignore the woman. Henry's dark green eyes are casted down intently, watching as my hands move effortlessly in front of him.

"There," I breathe and slowly straighten the tie once more, but I can't seem to let go of my son just yet.

My palms flatten against the lapels of his jacket while I examine his face. Tears well up and blur my vision as my eyes scan over every detail of his complexion, reminding me that he's just not my little prince anymore.

His once chubby round face has significantly thinned out and has become longer in the process. His adorable little chin is now sketched with faint stubble that he just can't seem to shave close enough to yet. My eyes suddenly flick to my son's stepfather, knowing this man will be useless in teaching Henry how to properly shave.

_I guess I will make it a point to speak to Charming this evening._

"Mom? Aren't we going to be late?" Henry meekly questions, understanding completely the emotions that must be flitting across my mind right now.

I gently pat his chest and smile. "Yes of course. Let's get a move on," I comply as I lean forward and press a delicate kiss to his cheek.

"Mom," he groans and nervously rubs at his cheek. "You didn't leave any lipstick behind did you?"

Emma laughs as she clasps a hand upon each of his broad shoulders. "Come on, you don't want your mother's lipstick gracing your face as you accept your diploma?" She sarcastically teases while she pushes him toward the front door.

"There are far worst things than that I suspect, mate," Hook chuckles along with his wife as they shuffle out the front door.

I take one more glance around my mansion and sigh, knowing all too well that my son is no longer a little boy. He's graduating high school, off to college and from the hints he's been dropping lately, will be very far from our quant town of Storybrooke. I frown and slowly shut the door behind me, closing the past.

XXXXXXXXX 

The moment we park my Mercedes in front of the high school, Henry is climbing out the back with his cap and gown clenched tightly in his fists.

"Bye moms, I'm going to catch up Violet," he informs us and I watch with amusement as his cheeks tinge a light shade of pink from the mention of the young girl's name alone.

"Well good luck Henry," I laugh while I rush out of my car. "We will see you right after the ceremony," I call out, but he's already running toward the school in full speed.

"Do you remember a time when he was running toward us?" Emma teases as she softly closes my passenger door.

"Is it bad to wish for a villain again, just so our son will need us once more," I muse while locking the door and stepping around the car to meet the couple.

"Yes!" Emma quickly replies, but then she's laughing lightly and shaking her head. "No, but do you think we can summon a demon or something," she whispers as she leans into my side.

My breath catches in my throat, just as it always seems to do whenever she lingers just a little closer. Her familiar scent clouds my mind and fills my heart with this warm feeling, that just feels like home. I smirk salaciously just as I always do while she returns the smile with a cheeky grin that consumes her entire face. It isn't long before her clingy pirate drapes an arm around her shoulder and tucks her into his side, just as he always does when he believes Emma and I are too close for comfort.

I'm not entirely sure when my feelings for the insufferable blonde presented themselves. Sometimes I think back to when her strong fingers wrapped around my arm and our magic combined to open up a portal from Jefferson's hat. Other times I convince myself that maybe I'm being silly and I actually didn't feeling anything until we were deserted on Neverland's island together. There's always one scenario that plays on repeat in my mind, when she chased me outside of Granny's when she thought I was leaving the party and blurted out that Archie made a cake. Then there are those rare moments when she flashes me her adorable shy smile and my heart sinks and I know she stole my heart when she muttered '_Hi_', the very first time we met.

However, none of this matters now. Emma is happily married to the pirate that pined obsessively over her. She was either too busy batting the man away to notice the way that I felt for her or maybe she chose to ignore my feelings, because who wants to have to reject the Evil Queen's love and affection?

"Regina?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you put your purse on the end? I think we should save two seats for my mom and dad," Emma asks just as I shuffle through the bleachers.

"Of course." I claim my seat next to Emma and set down my purse next to me, allowing enough room for the Charmings.

Emma leans into my side, seizing my heart yet again and immobilizing all my limbs and I curse myself for always feeling far too much.

"This is so exciting. To be honest, I never thought I'd see this day." A warm wave washes through my blood and encourages me to turn and meet her dancing eyes. "Not like...because I was going to die or anything. It's just...when I gave him up for adoption, I knew this would be a huge moment I was going to miss out on and it killed me." Emma nervously wipes her palms against her sun dress and offers me a lopsided smile. "I'm so happy I'm here to see this."

"Well I know Henry is happy that you are here as well." I pause for a moment and really assess her choice of clothing this morning. "You're wearing a dress," I suddenly blurt out.

Green eyes quickly flick to her clothing while her fingers anxiously tug at the hem. "Uh...yeah. I mean this is a special occasion right? You're wearing a dress."

"I always wear a dress," I retort and watch as too many insecurities flash across her mind. "Relax dear, you look really nice. I'm glad you decided against the skinny jeans and tacky red leather jacket."

"Oh shut up, you love that jacket just as much as I do."

"I love that jacket, I love all your leather jackets," Hook chimes in as he leans dangerously close into mine and Emma's intimate bubble, successfully popping the moment, just as he always does. "I thought the black leather would have suited you well today."

"I told you this dress is more appropriate."

I quickly lean back and remove myself from their martial squabble. There's nothing I find more uncomfortable then listening to those two fight. It's bad enough I have to watch Hook constantly stake his claim over Emma like a dog in heat.

"Emma! Regina!" Snow exclaims with Neal tucked suffocatingly close to her chest with David following behind.

"Hook, Emma, Regina," David politely individually greets all of us as they sink down into their seats. Charming shakes Hook's hand then reaches over to kiss Emma's forehead before he squeezes my arm affectionately. "How was Henry this morning?"

"He was quite nervous, but I think as soon as we arrived all that worry washed away by his excitement."

"Oh good," Snow huffs out a long breath as she readjusts Neal upon her lap.

"Gina!" Neal squeals as his little hands reach out for a hug.

I happily accept the little blonde and lift him out of Snow's lap. "Well hello my sweet boy," I gush and place a small kiss to his cheek. "Let's try this again, shall we? _Re_-gina," I softly encourage the little boy to properly pronounce my name while Snow simply laughs beside me. "Honestly Snow, are you not a teacher? We can't have this little one calling me _Gina_ all the time."

The three year old ignores my request and wraps his arms around my neck squeezing as tight he can while he laughs. My fingers methodically run through his hair, the same way I always did with Henry when he was younger.

"He's three, Regina. Do you fear people won't take you seriously anymore with the new nickname _Gina_?" Snow muses, but I choose not to comment because I'll be damned if I allow Snow the satisfaction of knowing me so well.

"Hey kiddo," Emma leans in close enough to where brother and sister's noses almost touch. She lifts her hand and waits for her brother to reciprocate the gesture, slapping his palm against hers.

"Hi, Ems."

Soon the chitter chatter from around the noisy gymnasium falls dead to our ears as the principal begins his speech. The amount of excited energy buzzing from the blonde beside me is palpable to say the very least. Her knees are bouncing as she leans forward to spot Henry in the sea of maroon caps and smiles from ear to ear.

The principal finishes up his speech and soon the valedictorian is making his way to the front of the stage. His fists clench tight into balls of white bony knuckles as his feet try not to shuffle and trip against the squeaky floor.

Emma's clammy hand slips over my knee, luckily I had enough sense to wear pantyhose this morning and not drown in the skin to skin contact. She squeezes with anticipation causing me to jerk a little from the surprise gesture. Snow and Hook immediately turn their full attention to me. I smile weakly and watch as Hook's blue eyes travel down to where Emma and I are conjoined.

It's truthfully exhausting trying to come up with a reason as to why my best friend's husband is jealous now. Emma is simply ecstatic that our son is about to present his valedictorian speech and why shouldn't she be? Henry is _our_ son, a young man who we have raised together and we should be enjoying this precious moment, _together_.

The former pirate masks his emotions well, I must say, but the man forgets that I too was once a villain. I can see the jealously clouding his judging eyes and the way his spine stiffens with rage. He slides his hand over Emma's leg, squeezing her thigh until she glances over at him. She quickly releases my knee and slides her hand into his for support. I roll my eyes and ignore his possessive ways because my son is about to speak.

"Well, I think this is the last time I will be able to speak freely. I believe the next school I attend will have me committed if I ever divulge in my time in Neverland with Pan," Henry begins and breathes out a nervous chuckle, but the entire gymnasium laughs along with my son and washes away the last of his nervous jitters.

Pride overwhelms my heart as I listen to my son produce his speech with confidence. Henry is the author now, but this speech that he wrote is remarkable. He has the audience laughing in all the right moments and tears welling up in all the proud parents filling the room. He's proving with each line delivered exactly why he was the proper choice as valedictorian and I don't think I have ever been prouder.

It isn't long before the entire room is filled with joyous clapping for my son's outstanding speech. Henry's cheeks flare up while he offers the audience a small, shy smile, reminding me so much of his other mother. He quickly exits the stage and then his eyes are drifting toward our family. He smiles, just a half smile before his head falls down and he scampers off toward his seat.

My heart is soaring with so much unconditional love as I watch a few students congratulate my son on his wonderful speech. The principal begins calling off names in alphabetical order and soon Henry is walking across the stage. Charming and Hook are undeniably loud, hollering and making all sorts of noises as Henry walks across the stage. While Emma and I clap along, she bumps her shoulder into mine and smiles brighter than she has in quite sometime.

The year before Emma and Hook were wed is when I noticed a drastic change in the blonde. At first I chalked up her behavior to once being consumed by the darkness after she stupidly sacrificed herself to become the Dark One. I assumed her monotone and dull behavior was a reaction to feeling that darkness weigh down her heart, but soon I discovered how wrong I was.

I waited patiently for the cocky, sarcastic and silly Emma to return, but she never did. When we were returned from the Underworld, I thought she was depressed about losing the spineless pirate, but all too quickly he was allowed another chance on Earth. I thought this would bring Emma out of whatever slump she was going through, but she remained this new unfamiliar version of herself.

I understand everyone changes, I myself experienced this first hand, but with Emma, something just doesn't feel right with her odd behavior. Her sparkling green eyes used to shimmer with mischief and wit, now her irises are dull with a pain I cannot unsee. Even her golden lock were always styled so beautifully, but now those tresses are lifeless and thrown carelessly into a low ponytail everyday.

I believe the first thing that ever attracted me to the woman was her ability to challenge me. Never once did the woman ever falter because of who I was, on the contrary. Emma Swan fought me every step of the way, with her head held high and chainsaw even higher. She didn't give a damn about my title as Mayor or even the Evil Queen, she stood up to me and challenged me as often as possible. She never feared me and she also never lost hope in believing in me.

Emma Swan stuck by my side time and time again, believing in me, trusting me, to be the best version of myself. To be the young girl I was before corruption and evil were forced upon me. Not once did she ever leave my side and now that I reminisce, what choice did the astounding woman leave me, but to fall in love with her?

Maroon, square shaped hats fly into the air, but my eyes fall toward my son. My handsome young man, whose face is beaming with joy and pride. I make a mental note to never forget this moment, to never forget the smile gracing my son's beautiful face.

_Where have eighteen years gone?_

XXXXXXXXX 

"We are so proud of you Henry," Snow's face scrunches painfully tight as she tries to ward off her inevitable tears. "We have all watched you from the tiny infant who just wouldn't stop crying, to the little boy who believed in all of us to the young man we see today, our author." Snow pauses to collect herself as finally a few tears trickle down her cheeks. "We love you so much and we cannot wait to be apart of whatever adventures life has in store for you."

"Here, here!" David hollers, provoking all the guests crammed inside Granny's to raise their glasses in unison. "To Henry!"

"To Henry!" The entire crowd praises before they all sip their beverages.

Emma sets down her dark beer upon the counter and smiles at our son, too excited to wait another minute for our surprise.

"Come here, kid." She delicately wraps her fingers around his wrist and drags him into a booth in the back. Henry quickly glances over his shoulder in wonderment, but I just smile and nod toward the booth while I follow along. "Sit, we have a surprise for you."

Henry obediently follows directions and slides into the old booth. Emma slips in next to him, forcefully bumping into his shoulder for fun while I claim the seat across from them.

"What's going on moms?" Henry nervously grins as his curious, dark green eyes flick back and forth between Emma and I.

I reach inside my purse and slowly slide a white envelope across the table. Henry's eyes are glued to his surprise, the anticipation driving him mad, no doubt.

"Henry," I softly whisper, encouraging his eyes to finally meet mine. "This is our gift to you." I smile from ear to ear and slowly release the envelope.

Our son doesn't waste one single second as his long fingers greedily snatch up the present. He tears through the back of the envelope while his eyes dance with excitement. Henry pulls out the folded up white sheets of paper and immediately begins scanning over the print.

"Wait...what?" He mutters mostly to himself while he spreads the papers wide open in front of him.

"I know all the colleges I've been taking you to visit have been near by in Boston and New York. Emma and I sat down and we discussed how you had slyly mentioned Los Angeles to both of us, for film school." Henry blinks rapidly as his eyes dart to mine again and he holds my gaze in pure shock. "So, with that being said, we agreed we would take you to California so you can visit some schools and we would make the trip a special graduation vacation in the process."

"Whoa, seriously? You guys are okay with that? You're okay with me going to a school in California?" He enthusiastically questions, with the optimism of his whole life dangling in front of him.

"Oh god no," I rapidly shake my head causing Emma to laugh lightly. "_But_, I don't ever want to hold you back. Whatever you decide, your mother and I will support you every step of the way."

"We want you to be happy Henry and we want you to decide for your future. We don't ever want to dictate your life, like ours were," Emma explains as she clenches Henry's shoulder before pulling him into a hug. "We love you kid."

"I love you too, moms."

"So the three of us leave tomorrow morning," Emma replies, pulling away from our son and ruffling his hair to stop any deep emotions from bubbling too close to the surface.

"The three of us? Hook's not coming?"

"Nah. Someone needs to help David at the station while we are gone. Besides, Regina and I thought it would be best if it was just the three of us. Our family."

Emma's eyes slowly drift in my direction. There's a proud glint sparkling in those golden flecks that always seem to pull at my heart strings. I don't ever want Emma to see the longing in my eyes for her so I nod curtly and turn my attention back toward our son.

"Thank you so much moms. This is awesome. Hey! Can we spend at least two days camping?"

"Camping?" I blurt out while Emma doesn't even attempt to stifle her obnoxious snort.

"Yeah, come on. We never go camping. I think it'll be fun. I'm eighteen and have never been."

"Sure, kid," Emma lightly bumps into Henry, her ecstatic smirk stretching as far as her cheeks will allow. "Can't wait to go camping with you," she claims, but her eyes are solely focused on me and I know when I am being mocked.

"That's fine with me, dear." I reach across the table and place my hand on top of Henry's. "Whatever you want to do this week, it's all up to you."

Suddenly there seems to be a dark cloud wrapped in leather hovering over our table, just as he always does.

"So lad, you excited for your trip with your mothers?" The former pirate questions with a large mug full of beer in his only hand.

The man smiles that fake, charming smirk that I loath more than anything in all of Storybrooke. I've known this pirate for far too long and there was a time when I knew this selfish man better than he knew himself. I know his smiles are all insincere unless he's drooling over Emma. I must say, I actually prefer the former villain to the whiny little man that stands before me today.

Anytime Emma is in danger or he is _worried_ about her, Hook becomes this pathetic, obsessive, whiny little baby. At least the Captain I knew was strong, brave and had the balls to accomplish whatever he set his mind to. Now, he just mopes around and follows Emma like a lost puppy. God forbid Emma is ever in danger he comes crying to me to fix it.

"Yeah Hook, California seems great."

"Well I have no clue to where this other realm is, but cheers!" The drunken pirate holds up his glass and smiles wickedly before he tosses back half the glass.

"It's not a realm," Emma begins to explain, "its a state...like...you know what, never mind," she shakes her head as if his incompetence is cute and quickly stands from our booth.

"How about we get you another drink, love? We should enjoy the night before you leave me tomorrow," he enthusiastically suggests as his hook presses into Emma's lower back and escorts her away from our table.

I watch intently as Emma stiffens slightly and I wonder if she hates the damn hook pressed up against her skin as much as I do. It truthfully takes every ounce of energy to keep my face impassive and not display the disgust twisting in my gut.

_She deserves so much better._

"Mom?" I blink rapidly and turn my attention toward my son who unmistakably is judging my face right now. I fake my best smile and hum in response. "Do you think Granny would serve me a beer since this is my graduation party."

"What?" I shriek and shake my head violently. "Oh no mister. Just because you graduated doesn't mean you're a man just yet. You are still underage," I strictly inform him and plaster on my scariest Evil Queen face so he doesn't even think about asking that question again.

"I'm just kidding mom," he laughs a little too hard and slips out from the booth. "I don't even like beer."

"Good," I firmly state as I too rise from the booth, but then I pause and glare at my son who somehow grew taller than me in this past year. "What do you mean you don't like beer _anyways_?"

"Gramps, blame him," my son laughs like a small child once again as he weasels his way through the crowd to slip away from me.

"Henry Daniel Mills!"

My son continues laughing as he knocks into the back of Grumpy and spills just the tiniest bit of beer. "Watch it!" Grumpy growls before he turns around to see Henry. His permanent scowl turns into a bright smile before he tucks my son into his side. "Henry! Hey kid, you think you can write me a happy ending with a smoking hot fairy?"

I smile and shake my head before I squeeze through the guests toward the bar. Snow slides a red drink my way and smirks and I already know how intoxicated this woman must be from her smile alone.

"Apple Martini, Your Majesty, hold the poison," she laughs a little too hard at her lame attempt at humor and rests her forehead against my shoulder.

"Snow my dear, haven't we discussed your consumption on alcohol?"

The drunken princess perks right up and lazily smiles up at me. "You are not my mother," she sternly dejects, before she giggles like a school girl all over again.

"Thank god for that! I am only six years older than you," I comment while she just waves me off. "Where is your husband I need to speak with him about teaching Henry how to properly shave, since his stepfather is useless."

Snow grows serious and sips her mixed drink appearing deep in thought. "Why can't you teach him?"

"I've tried, but I think Henry would prefer if this particular lesson comes from another man. He became rather embarrassed when I tried to explain the task."

"Hmmm..." Snow regards me for a moment before she waves her arms in the air and starts screaming like a banshee for her husband.

"I do hope David is not drinking tonight. You do have a son remember?" I question, but Snow just waves me off again and laughs boldly in my face.

"My charming," she gushes as she slithers her limbs all around her husband like an octopus smothering their prey with their clingy tentacles. "Regina needs you to teach Henry to shave...properly," she hiccups and reaches for her drink again.

"Your wife is correct, but also highly intoxicated," I acknowledge as I steal the drink from her clutches.

"I noticed his stubble," David laughs as he wraps his arm around Snow's midsection. Not a claim to his wife like the dirty pirate, just holding the woman up before she collapses in a drunken stupor. "I thought he was trying to take after Killian."

I cannot stop the dramatic eye roll from my annoyance. "Oh please, my son would never."

"Would never what, love?" Hook rudely interrupts our conversation with his wife firmly tucked into his side provoking my nose to twitch in disgust.

"Nothing Hook," I grumble and sip my poison-less martini, somewhat wishing it was laced with a sleeping curse.

My eye catches my son down at the other end of the counter. His face is serious and I know he's ignoring Grumpy's drunken rambling by the way his eyes are glued onto my face. His head tilts just the slightest and I desperately wish I knew what my son was thinking. The corner of his mouth deepens and I swear he's flashing me a sorrowful frown. I simply smile in return to help ease whatever anguish is running through his mind and turn my attention back toward my friends.

"How about some celebratory shots?" Hook exclaims, but Emma softly pats his chest.

"I don't think that's such a great idea. We have an early flight and being hungover is not ideal for any of us."

"Come on love, just a couple," he nuzzles his nose against her ear and whispers something that the loud restaurant effectively drowns out.

Emma's green eyes frantically shift back and forth while his lips press into her temple. The former pirate begins peppering her neck with rough kisses causing my stomach to turn in despair. My blood burns hot beneath my skin from the public claim of affection while Emma's cheeks flare up in embarrassment.

"Killian," she sighs and lightly taps his chest in a silent plea to stop.

"Hey mom!" Henry anxiously interjects the awkward moment. His presence is like a cool bucket of water washing away the burn in my heart. "Can we maybe...call it...a night," he timidly suggests and for a moment I panic that he might not be feeling well by the look of queasiness on his face.

"Are you alright, honey?" I set down my drink and quickly feel his forehead, but he swats me away far too quickly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just fine. We have an early morning so..." his eyes flick to his blonde mother with an expression I'm not quite too sure of before he meets my eyes again. "...uh so I think we should call it a night."

"Sure, sweetie."

We quickly say our goodbyes and sneak out of the restaurant and thankfully away from the clingy couple. I hate after all this time of burying my feelings for the sheriff, I still feel hopelessly in love with her. I know it's too late to tell her the truth and I could never break up a happy home, anyways. I just don't know how I am going to be able to remain friends with the blonde once Henry leaves for college. He is the only reason for my happiness and without him around, I just don't know how I will survive.

Henry and I enter the foyer, exhausted from a long, eventful day. I slowly peel away my jacket and try to pretend that I wasn't just internally dying from watching Hook attack Emma's neck like a starving vampire.

"Thank you for saying you wanted to leave early. I could not handle another one of Grumpy's, '_of all the curses_ _I've known before'_ toasts," I playfully tease.

"Yeah, I was starting to think that wasn't hot chocolate in his mug," he smirks, fully proud of himself and appearing so much older than just this morning. "Thank you for tonight, that was a great grad party and thank you for my trip."

Just the corner of Henry's mouth deepens and I know that look all too well, something is bothering him, but he's not ready to voice his reasoning why.

"Well, you're very welcome. Why don't you head up to bed? Big day ahead," I smile just as my son leans in and pecks my cheek, catching me completely off guard. I gasp slightly before he pulls away.

"Good night mom, I love you."

"I love you, too," I beam with pride while Henry turns around and rushes up the stairs, as though he's still that ten year old little boy, exploding with energy and excitement.


	2. Chapter Two

My alarm was blaring at four this morning, but there was no need for the atrocious thing. My mind was already wide awake, wondering how the hell I am going to manage seven days with Emma. Seven days, with the woman I am madly in love with, without her husband by her side to steal her away the moment we have a private conversation. Seven days, posing as a family with our son, laughing and enjoying one another's company.

I groan and toss my covers off my body. As much as I despise Captain Guyliner, I almost wish he were coming, just to keep my emotions and my lust for his wife in check. It would be far easier if he tagged along and I wasn't forced to spend more time with Emma, most likely falling deeper in love with the woman who hardly notices me anymore.

I work on autopilot, showering, dressing and even styling my hair while my mind nervously flicks through every scenario of how this vacation will end up. When I am all ready, I sneak across the hall to wake Henry up. I lightly tap my knuckles against the door before slowly opening his bedroom door.

"Henry?" I softly call out and peek my head inside to find my son all dressed and ready to go. "Oh, you're up." I smile at my handsome son and enter his room.

"Yeah, I could hardly sleep last night. I'm too excited," he chuckles a deep bravado that reminds me so much of his father, despite only knowing the man for a few short months before his untimely passing. "Are you all set? Would you like me to bring down your luggage?"

"That would be lovely, dear." My fingers lightly dance across his forehead before gently cupping his cheek. "I'll meet you downstairs and make us some coffee?" I offer in which he nods in return. "Good, we have some time before Emma arrives."

Henry and I exit his room and part ways. My son heads for my room to retrieve my suitcases while I make my way down stairs. The moment my foot connects with the bottom step, there is a rapid knock against my front door. I quickly glance at my watch and note its only five in the morning, Emma shouldn't be here for at least another half an hour.

My bare feet pad across the cold marble floor toward my front door. I stretch on my tip toes to peek through the hole, instantly spotting a wild mane of golden locks. I smile subconsciously and quickly unlock my door.

"Emma," I smirk and fold my arms across my chest. "You're early."

"Well good morning to you too, Madam Mayor," she quips as she extends her arm with a thermos in hand.

"Madam Mayor?" I suspiciously question, but still accept the beverage offered to me. "I haven't heard that name out of your mouth in quite some time."

Emma brushes passed me and closes the door behind herself. "Well with that tone and the way you were standing I had a very strong sense of déjà vu."

"So you're early _and_ you brought me coffee?" I interrogate, intrigued as to what her reasoning is for her sudden manners.

"Yeah," she shrugs her shoulder as she sips from her own thermos. "I was really excited, I've never been to Cali before," she shrugs once more to appear unaffected, but those stunning green eyes are sparkling, selling her out and informing me just how ecstatic she truly is.

She nervously rocks between her heels and toes as she stares aimlessly at my staircase. A long silence that is stretching between us for far too long is clouding over our heads. Maybe this trip will be more awkward due to the lack of communication rather than my persistent harbored feelings.

If I take a moment to think about my past relationship with Emma, I guess we truly haven't spent _that_ much time together one on one. Obviously, we see each other every day around town, especially when we work together warding off villains and keeping the town safe, but we have never experienced leisure quality time together.

When we are ever alone, we are formulating plans to defeat the latest Hell beast, speaking of Henry or our latest relationships. We never relax together and strike up casually conversations.

"So, Henry ready?" Emma finally vocalizes, cracking through this horrendous moment.

I don't even have time to respond before Henry is trampling down the stairs, wobbling unsteadily from all the luggage. Come to think of it, I may have over packed, but I've never been to the west coast either and I have no idea what the weather will be like. Of course being a person of control, I did my research about the state and created an itinerary, but that doesn't mean the climate will necessarily cooperate.

"Hey ma, you're early."

"Is this really a thing?" Emma feigns appalled as she spins around as though I made the teasing comment. "Does everyone always assume I run late?"

"Yeah," Henry and I respond simultaneously in the most flat tone, persuading Emma's mouth to connect with the floor below.

"You guys suck," she grumbles under her breath, but the corner of her mouth is already curling into a playful smirk, despite her best efforts to act offended.

Henry and I both share a carefree laugh, exchanging knowing looks behind his other mother's back as I step forward to help him with my own bags.

"Why don't we bring these out to the car?" I suggest, piling up my smaller bag onto my larger suitcase for convenience.

"I'll take them out mom, but maybe you could make me a coffee to go?" My son smiles that cheeky grin that reminds me to much of a certain blonde, smirking beside me.

"Of course, honey."

"I'll help you," Emma quickly volunteers like the idea of us being alone again, suffocating and choking on that unbearable silence is far too much. "Regina, come out when you're ready, we should hit the road now in case there's any traffic. Don't want to miss our flight."

"Alright, I'll just be a minute."

I scurry toward my kitchen while Emma and Henry wheel the luggage out the front door. I prepare Henry's coffee just the way he likes it into a traveler's mug and rinse out the coffee pot before making sure the machine is off. I decide to make a quick sweep through the house to make sure everything is turned off and unplugged before I meet the duo outside.

The mumbling, fumbling duo who are both fighting with the luggage to shove inside the tiny trunk attached to the front end of the yellow eye sore.

Emma pushes with all her might against one of my larger bags, her jaw clenching tight as a snarl appears. "Regina, do you seriously need all these bags? We are only gone for one week," she huffs as her palms repeatedly smack my bag in hopes that it will simply fall into place.

"You could never be too prepared," I casually respond, approaching the annoyed mother and son.

"I don't know if we are going to be able to fit all our luggage in the bug," Henry points out, running a hand through his hair, staring aimlessly inside the trunk.

"Step aside," I wave my hand, removing all the bags that have been stuffed inside the impractical trunk space. "First of all," I bend down, swiping up two backpacks in the process, "these can go in the backseat," I demand, placing them into Henry's arms. He quickly scampers off toward the backseat and places the bags inside. "Now, this one should fit in the back," I comment mostly to myself, moving my larger bag in first and then the smaller one. "Is this all you brought?" I inquire, lifting a rather small duffel bag into the trunk.

"Yeah, like I said, we are only staying a week Regina," Emma scoffs as her thumbs find the security of their home, resting inside of her back pockets, per usual Emma Swan fashion.

"I don't believe we are staying anywhere with a washing machine available to us." I proceed to arrange Henry's bag inside and note the lack of space left over.

"Well then I guess if tragedy strikes and I run out of clothes, I'll rummage through your entire wardrobe that you insist on bringing."

"I must say, I can't wait to experience more of your snarky morning attitude on this trip," I deadpan, slamming her trunk shut and wheeling my other bag toward the backseat.

"No worries," Emma trudges passed me, "I'm sleeping in all vacation so we will all miss out on my alternate morning personality," she quips, popping open her door and recklessly tumbling inside.

I shake my head at the blonde as Henry reaches for my bag and places it on the seat beside him. I offer my son an appreciative smile before walking around to the passenger side and sliding in.

"All set?" Emma cheerfully questions, apparently she dropped her sulky attitude outside of the car before she closed the door.

"I believe so."

"Yup," Henry smiles as he clicks his seatbelt into place. "How long is the drive to the airport again? We haven't flown on a plane since I was ten when we went with grandpa to find dad."

Emma starts the car, smiling to herself as she slowly backs out of my driveway and we begin our journey.

"Eight years is a long time," she softly comments and I can't help but notice how quickly her body has relaxed once she started the engine. "It's about an hour and a half to the airport."

She cranes her neck to the side, just the tiniest bit and flashes me a peppy grin before her eyes crawl back toward the road. The moment she stepped inside this death trap, her body sunk into the seat and became one with the leather chair. Just another quirk of hers that I find absolutely endearing and quite frankly adorable. She loves this damn bug so much that she actually becomes one with the car the second her back hits the seat.

My eyes wander down to where her long fingers are mindlessly squirming near the radio dials. I know she's itching to turn on the radio and most likely crank up the volume to deafening velocity, but something is making her hesitate. I don't have the opportunity to ask why or suggest she just turn it on anyways because my son's voice is already cracking through the silence.

"Mom, you've never been on a plane before, have you?"

"I haven't actually, no. The first time I ever stepped out of Storybrooke was to adopt you," I twist around in my seat and smile back at my son who is reciprocating the same sweet gesture. "...and I drove the whole way. I've been to New York and Boston now, but both times were in this car with your mother."

"Are you nervous?"

"No, not particularly," I smile and spin back around, watching as our sleepy town passes us by.

"There's really nothing to be scared of," Emma chimes in, the corner of her mouth turning up. "You've jumped through portals which is like free falling into an abyss and have been flying through the air on numerous occasions by villains so I think you got this."

"Very funny Miss Swan," I growl in a low threatening tone while she just happily laughs beside me.

"All I'm saying is at least you'll be strapped in by a seatbelt and will be confined in a huge plane to keep you protected."

"Mmmhmmm," I hum skeptically while narrowing my eyes at the side of her amused face.

"I don't remember much from the trip," Henry interrupts, "but I do remember grandpa freaking out."

"Rumple was scared of a plane?" I inquire, suddenly very amused by the prospect of The Dark One being petrified by something as insignificant as a plane.

"Terrified," Emma and Henry exasperate in unison before they both chuckle softly.

"Oh this is good, tell me more. Paybacks a bitch," I maliciously interrogate for future leverage.

XXXXXXXXX 

The airport was crawling with far too many rude people, scrambling to push their way passed anyone to arrive at their destination on time. With every person that shoulder checked me, the inner Evil Queen pounded furiously upon my heart to be set free from my prison. I somehow found my strength, clenched my jaw and followed Emma as she guided us through the maddening airport. For some odd reason, this wild, frenzied behavior only made me assume that this is what it must be like in Jefferson's scatter brain.

"This is our gate," Emma motions with our boarding passes crumpled up in her tight fist. "Regina if you need to pee, do it now. It's not really fun trying to squeeze into those bathrooms and steady yourself hovering above the toilet."

"I'm fine," I mutter and race toward the seats to escape the hustle and bustle from the overpopulated crowd.

I find a rather secluded area for the time being and take a seat, sighing in relief when I'm free from the obnoxious people. Henry claims the seat to my left while Emma falls into the other one beside me.

"I really think you should go...you too, kid," Emma sing songs to persuade us while she slides off her backpack and drops it to the floor with a heavy thud. "It's a long flight..." she continues, dragging out her words to move us along.

A cold prickly sensation ripples through my body from the tip of my toes all the way toward my scalp. I take a slow and calming breath, but for some reason, dodging the crowd isn't helping dissipate the painful clenching in my chest or the suffocating thick air surrounding me. I swallow in hopes to wash away this eerie feeling, but that only forces my stomach to flip upside down and create an acidy taste to tickle against the back of my tongue.

My knees are already jerking in reaction to this overwhelming sensation and I find myself standing tall between Emma and Henry. Out of my peripheral, I discover both gaping at me, dumbfounded by my sudden action.

"Excuse me," I croak out as my head spins violently and I try to stabilize myself. "I think I will use the restroom," I explain my odd behavior and slowly walk away, pleading for my body to just calm down.

I never experience this type of reaction to my body, except when I over exert my strength during some magical spell and I know this is a land without magic right now. So, there is no plausible explanation for my sudden panic.

Panic, that's what's slithering through my blood and curling possessively around my veins right now. I strive to appear calm as I rush inside the bathroom, but the blaring gusts of wind from the hand driers are only further agitating my senses. I swallow back the fear crawling it's way up my throat and tumble quickly into the nearest stall.

My palm rests flat against my chest, absorbing the erratic pounding below as I inhale sharply through my nose and breathe out slowly through my mouth. A perfect distraction right now would be to actually use the bathroom so that's what I do to help keep my mind busy from spiraling out of control.

I have no idea where this sudden attack of paranoia has come crawling out from, but I know one thing is for sure, I cannot stomach the thought of being so out of control right now. I need order in my life and I need to know that I am always in control of myself.

I take one last calming breath and step outside of the stall to wash my hands. "Emma!" I gasp, stumbling backwards before I collide brutally with the nervous woman in front of me.

"Sorry," she meekly replies through a wince. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay," she whispers for my benefit and even though I will never see any of these strangers again, I'm glad my erratic behavior is not on display for everyone to notice.

"I'm fine," I brush right passed her and begin thoroughly scrubbing my hands.

"You seem a bit...queasy," she sheepishly suggests while taking a step closer behind my shoulder.

"I'm fine," I repeat, shrugging off any implications before I somehow find myself tumbling down an even darker panic attack.

"Are you nervous about the flight, now that we are here?" She whispers as I dry my hands, deliberately avoiding her concerned eyes in the mirror.

"Don't be silly." I toss my dirty paper towel into the trash bin and walk out of the bathroom with my head held high, even though I'm certain it's going to spin right off my shoulders.

"Do you want to maybe take something? At the little stands they usually have something for nausea or you can try one of the drowsy medications."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm alright," I fake my best smile to help ease her worry, but the frown that's still embedded deep into her cheeks lets me know that she's not buying my claim.

"Just in time, they called our group to line up," our son happily informs us as we approach him.

When I reach for my carry on bag, I notice my hand trembling in a manner that just is not like myself. My eyes are straining upon my fingers, watching intently as this new sensation takes over my usual calm and collective body. Another wave of prickly chills wash up my spine and there's nothing I want more than to crawl out of my skin in this moment.

"Come on Regina," Emma's abnormally soft and delicate tone catches my attention and snaps my mind back to reality.

She already has her fingers wrapped around my bag and wheeling it toward the line. I swallow and quickly reach for the handle, not wanting to appear any weaker than I must be presenting myself right now.

"Thank you, but I'm perfectly capable of handling my own luggage."

Emma sighs dramatically, but thankfully she chooses to keep her lips sealed tight. I slide my luggage into the line behind Henry and anxiously strum my nails against the plastic handle.

"Six hour flight to Los Angeles, it'll be over before you know it," Emma quietly whispers beside me as her eyes read over our boarding passes for the umpteenth time.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Are these instructions really necessary?" Henry laughs under his breath while I listen carefully to the flight attendant who is modeling off a bright yellow life jacket. "I mean I think everyone on this plane knows how to fasten their seatbelt."

"Henry," I quietly warn him to zip his lips in a low threatening tone.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat between Emma and I, but decides he better not continue with his smart ass remarks. The flight attendants finally finish with their explanation in which I find a distraction on the runway just outside my window.

Henry has already placed his headphones inside his ears while Emma's head has fallen back and her eyes have drifted closed. Now that we are actually on the plane, the anxious energy that has been buzzing around in my blood all morning has finally settled. I sigh in relief and listen as the engines roar to life.

The plane jolts forward, sending me further back into my seat, but I keep my eyes focused on the world rushing by outside. As the plane slowly lifts into the air, I realize how painfully tight my fingers are curling around the armrests. I remind myself to maintain long, steady, breaths to keep my body calm.

The higher we climb, the more my stomach flips in disapproval. My eyelids slam shut to block out the world around me so I can focus on relaxing. Soon, the plane evens out and a small buzz of chatter fills the air, but something just isn't sitting right in my gut.

My eyes spring to life as I feel the familiar bitter taste burning a path up my chest. I don't have much time to think and my fingers are already shaking as they unclasp my seatbelt. I don't even bother asking Henry to move, because I'm already shuffling over his lap.

"Mom?" Henry mumbles, yanking an earbud out of his ear.

"Regina? You okay?" Emma quickly inquires as I'm scooting passed her long legs and quickly rushing through the narrow aisle.

Luckily, I tumble into the tiny bathroom just in time to empty the horrible sensation that's been torturing me since I stepped foot inside the airport. For some horrific reason, most likely because the universe has a strange sense of humor when it comes to my sad little life, I cannot stop the involuntary vomiting.

"Uh, R'gina?" Emma softly whispers just outside the bathroom, her knuckles lightly tapping against the plastic door. "You okay?"

I groan to nobody but myself and squeeze my eyes shut again. My fingers curling tightly around my hair that I have swept to one side and I beg my stomach to just relax for one minute.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

My muscles are quivering violently and my entire body feels like it's slowly floating away from this awfully tiny restroom. Despite the disgusting taste in my mouth, I attempt to swallow so I can answer her, but that small gesture lights a burning match in the pit of my stomach and suddenly my head is in the toilet all over again.

"C-can I come in?"

This time I groan loudly, because the idea of Emma Swan watching me with my head inside of a disgusting public toilet while I spew my intestines everywhere is just mortifying. I rather be burned at the stakes for my witchcraft than allow Emma to see me in such a weak state.

"Regina," her knuckles strum again so tentatively against the door. "Please let me in, I have a bottle of water for you and some crackers."

My head is already vehemently shaking at the idea of anything entering my mouth right now and again my head is burying in white porcelain. Lazily, I rest one cheek to my palm as my other hand blindly reaches to flush the mess away.

"I'm going to come in now," Emma states with a little more confidence, but I'm sending a silent thank you to the man who invented locks. Except, the door is slowly prying open and Emma is stuffing herself through the tiny gap. Apparently, I abandoned the lock before I dropped to my knees. "Hey."

"Hey," I grumble sleepily from the exhaustion of performing my own exorcism to release the devil himself from my intestines.

"Do you feel better now?" She timidly inquires while bending down beside me, but I refuse to meet her eyes. I shrug my shoulders and focus on just breathing. "Do you think you can try sipping some water?"

"I'm fine, just go."

"No, you're not fine. You haven't been fine all morning."

"Go."

"Stop being so stubborn and let me help you," she demands with a little more authority lacing her tone, but I remain silent and focus on my breathing. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, everyone pukes Regina."

"Elegant as always, Miss Swan."

"Oh come off your high horse and cut the _Miss Swan_ crap. We've known each other now for eight years, it's about time we took our relationship to a new level," she attempts at humor, but fails miserably from the predicament I'm finding myself in. "Regina, please just let me help you," she softly pleads this time, sliding the small bottle of water beneath my nose.

"You couldn't loosen the purse strings for a regular sized bottle?" I quip as my weak hands try and fail to open the bottle.

Emma sighs, ripping the bottle from my hands and easily spins the cap right off. "This is all they had on the plane, apparently they were under the impression that they would be transporting your sister's munchkins only this morning." This time I do chuckle at her lame joke and snatch back the water, taking very tiny sips. "Do you think you caught a bug or something?"

"I refuse to be sick on our son's graduation trip," I demand as Emma takes the bottle from my hand. She offers me a small smile, but I can see the concern crinkling around her eyes as she assesses me. "Besides, I'm feeling much better. I think my stomach was simply disagreeing with the take off."

"Are you sure you're feeling better?" I simply hum in response, because I don't need her hovering around me for the rest of this flight and obsessively questioning the habits of my stomach. "Do you want to try a couple crackers to settle your stomach?"

"No, that's alright. I think the water is just fine for right now."

Emma eyes the side of my face suspiciously and I can only assume her inner lie detector is ringing loudly right now. I'm sure bright flashing lights resembling an ambulance truck are flickering in her mind as we speak so I avoid her eyes once more and attempt to stand on shaky knees.

"Do you-"

"I'm fine, Emma. Please go back to your seat. Just give me a moment to freshen up and I'll be right behind you."

Her forever frown, always etched around her mouth, deepens severely, but she obeys my request and slips out the door without an argument.

I wobble on my Bambi like knees toward the sink and begin running the water. I wash my hands thoroughly before splashing some cool liquid to my face. I rinse out my mouth, attempting to wash away the foul taste and proceed to pat my face dry with a paper towel.

My stomach is still uneasy, but I do feel somewhat better. So, I take one deep breath and slip outside the bathroom door, pleading with whomever that the entire plane isn't staring at me through judging eyes. Thankfully, half the plane has their eyes resting closed from such an early flight while the other half has their noses buried in electronics.

I attempt to walk down the aisle with my head held high, but my knees are still quivering and my muscles feel like a heavy mush just weighing me down. Emma steps into the aisle, allowing space for me to crawl back into my seat near the window.

"Hey, you okay mom?"

"I'm fine honey. No need to worry," I wave off my son, not wanting to put a damper on his mood. I know how excited he is for this trip and the last thing I want to do is cause him any worries about my health.

"You sure?" He sheepishly questions, his hand hovering near his ear just waiting to plug the bud back inside.

"Positive." I reach out with my left hand and place my warm palm on top of his free hand, earning myself a delicate smile in return from my son.

XXXXXXXXX 

I was not fine. In fact, I was so _not_ fine, that I assumed my life was coming to an end. After all the chaos I witnessed in my lifetime, after all the times I actually escaped death, this was how I was going to leave this world. Vomiting profusely on a plane with strangers shooting daggers my way every time I ran up the aisle and of course Emma Swan following right behind.

The entire six hour flight was never ending and worst of all, I was officially ripped from any dignity and honor I had left from being a queen. The first two hours I did my best to keep Emma's prying eyes from the horrific scene, but when hour three hit and my body was on a brink of mental and physical exhaustion and most likely dehydration, all self respect and shame was flushed down that toilet along with my insides.

Of course Emma Swan was there every step of the way. She held my hair back when I couldn't find the strength any longer and not once did she ever leave my side. Emma is good, pure, her whole heart and soul was created for the greater good. It just makes it that much harder to toss a bucket of cold water on the flame that burns bright in my heart for her. I almost wish that she would have just left me to fend for myself against the grueling attack of nausea, so that way I could be angry with her and use that as motivation to stop these pesky little feelings. But of course, that's not the case, because life enjoys sitting on the sidelines and watching me suffer far too much.

"Well that's one way to start off a trip," Henry teases the moment we step outside of the airport.

The thick warm California air envelops my tired aching limbs in what feels like a warm hug. I sigh in relief that I am finally free from that prison in the sky and relish in the hot sun beating down on my face.

"Regina, do you want me to grab the rental car and pull up for you?" Emma kindly offers, but I'm already shaking my head.

"I'm much better now."

"That's what you said last time and if my memory serves me correctly you spent the next six hours with your head in the toilet," Emma deadpans, readjusting her backpack upon her shoulders.

"Honestly, I feel a little weak, but my stomach is much better," I assure her and nod toward the sign for our rental car. "I can keep up."

Emma and Henry share a knowing look with each other, but decide not to push the issue. The sheriff begins walking off, my large luggage wheeling behind her along with her duffel bag on top. Henry and I follow behind, not uttering one word as Emma scans the aisles for the car she rented.

"Here," she breathes as she pops open the door to retrieve the key.

"Really?" Henry skeptically questions as we both take in the vehicle Emma chose before the trip.

"Well this is quite the change from your usual mini coffin on wheels."

Big green doe eyes roll in annoyance as she pops the trunk. "You guys are hilarious," she deadpans, tossing my heavy bag into the spacious trunk first with a rough grunt. "Henry, I know you want to go camping and I wasn't sure what kind of outdoor activities you might want to get into so I thought a Jeep Wrangler would be ideal."

"At least it's not yellow," I retort.

"I tried, but they don't come in that color to rent," she seriously states, tossing more of our luggage into the back with Henry's help.

"Of course you did." I roll my eyes, but per usual, Emma isn't bothered by my tone the least bit.

It's been so long now with our snarky attitude and constant banter that Emma doesn't even bat an eye anymore. I think if I ever stopped the witty comebacks and bitchy remarks, then she might gape at me like a fish out of water, otherwise this is just normal for her now.

"Alright," Emma slams the trunk shut. "Who's hungry?" She teasingly asks, rubbing her hands together with far too much excitement toward food.

"You're the worst," I groan, shoving a giggling blonde toward the driver's seat.


	3. Chapter Three

The oceanfront hotel that Emma and I chose together was only twenty-five minutes away from the airport, but with all the crammed traffic honking and flooding the streets, the drive ended up being over an hour long.

The elegant red brick against the cream stone back drop is breathtakingly beautiful as we walk through the grand entryway. My eyes immediately shift toward my son, wondering if he's old enough to appreciate the elaborate building or if this is something his eyes will just mindlessly sweep over.

"Moms," Henry gasps, shrugging his backpack even higher onto his broad shoulder, "...this must have cost a fortune."

I smile proudly at my son's inquisitive eyes while Emma nudges her elbow against his. "Don't worry about it, kid. It's your graduation trip and you deserve this. We are so proud of you. How the hell did you manage top of your class while fighting all those..." Emma pauses, her eyes scanning the area before she lowers her voice, "uh, criminals."

"Did you really think mom would accept anything else?" He chuckles as his eyes crawl to mine.

There's a mix of emotions in his eyes when they meet mine. Gratitude is the most prominent emotion flickering across those dark green eyes and I know in this moment that he's absolutely thankful for all my attention to his schoolwork. I flash my son a broad smile hoping it explains just how proud and honored I am to be his mother, but then there's a glint of something else sparkling in his eyes and I can't help but think it's fear.

My mouth pops open to question this expression of uncertainty, but Emma is quickly, unknowingly interrupting. "You're right. Regina, I'm actually surprised you didn't make him bring his homework in the Underworld."

"She did," Henry flatly replies creating a warm flush to tingle up my chest and land upon my cheeks.

"What? You actually made the kid do homework?" Emma blinks in surprise before turning toward our son. "How come I didn't see you doing any of it?"

"I was embarrassed so I hid in the loft at night when I was working on it."

Emma barks out an obnoxious laugh just as we enter the hotel. "Only you Regina would focus on mathematics and geometry when we are facing Hades, the God of the Underworld himself."

"You bite your tongue, Emma. If it weren't for my constant dedication to his education he might have failed high school and ended up as your deputy by default."

"Hey, there are far worse things than being my Deputy."

I narrow my eyes at the blonde, effectively causing her to squirm under my scrutiny. I hum in response while rolling my eyes and changing the subject all together.

"Let's check in."

XXXXXXXXX 

"Moms, this suite is awesome!" Henry enthusiastically praises the moment we step inside.

Eggshell walls along with white couches creates the illusion of modern decor, but the accent colors of ocean blue help remind us that we are in fact on a beach. The main living space is complete with an elaborate couch and recliner facing a flat screen television that I hope we won't find any use with.

"So there are two bedrooms," Emma states as we carry our luggage into the living room. She peeks inside the first room to the left, a smile stretching wide across her dainty lips and nods for Henry to look inside. "This one is your room."

Our son's grin cracks across his cheeks as he dashes into the master bedroom. "Whoa, moms, this is amazing. You can't be serious," he rambles as he inspects the extravagant room decorated in soft blues with a balcony peering out onto the beach down below. "What about you two? I think you deserve this room."

"There's only one bed," I comment as Henry slides the glass door open and steps out onto the balcony.

"The other room has two beds for your mom and I," Emma explains, following our son outside and I'm right behind them.

A slight breeze brushes passed us, filling the warm afternoon air with the salty ocean scent. The calming sound of the waves crashing against the shoreline is enough to render each one of us speechless. All of us are drinking in this moment, from the bright blue sky void of any clouds to the white sand that looks like it belongs straight out of a magazine.

"Moms, I can't thank you enough. This..."

"Don't forget Henry, we will also be spending time touring some colleges so you can make the right decision best for you," I remind him.

"I wouldn't mind coming to visit you here," Emma chuckles to herself, her fingers curling securely around our son's shoulders and squeezing some love into them.

"Look at this huge jacuzzi," Henry acknowledges, completely changing the subject on us.

Emma and Henry both jump into the jacuzzi just to admire how spacious the tub actually is, while I sit back and laugh at their childish ways.

"Regina, just imagine this view at sunset while drinking wine and soaking in this tub," Emma paints a wonderful picture, that I can't help but long for with just her. But, I smile in return, hoping she doesn't notice the want that's pulsating through my veins right now and quickly turn my attention back out onto the rolling waves. "Come on, lets go see the rest of the rooms."

We step back inside, leaving the sliding glass door open so we are still able to listen and appreciate the ocean roaring just outside of our room. Emma and Henry run toward the bathroom, gushing over the white marble that decorates the expanse of the room.

I gather my luggage and begin dragging it in my shared room with Emma following behind with her small duffel bag. Immediately, I empty my bags, hanging what needs to be on hangers to avoid wrinkles and placing everything else in dresser drawers.

Emma drops her bag on the floor and hazardously falls back onto her bed. "You're unpacking already?" She laughs to herself as she gazes up at the blank ceiling above.

"You aren't?"

"It can wait," the sounds of her shuffling on the bed catches my attention and forces me to glance over my shoulder. "Henry wants to grab some food and maybe hang out at the beach before the sun goes down."

I sigh heavily, because as much as my stomach has stopped it's repetitive cartwheels, my body still feels exhausted from everything I experienced on the plane.

"I think for tonight, it's best if I stay back."

Curiosity in the sheriff provokes her back to straighten up and cast her attention in my direction. "Are you still not feeling well?"

"I'm just tired honestly. I'm sure by tomorrow, I will feel perfectly normal," I assure her, finishing my unpacking by placing my bathroom necessities in our ensuite.

"Are you sure? We can hang back here and keep you company," she kindly offers, shouting through the room while I take a moment alone in the bathroom.

I catch my reflection in the mirror and wince when I notice how pale my cheeks are. Dark heavy circles are painted just below my tired eyes, surrounded by my unruly hair from my anxious fingers. How neither one of my traveling companions have yet to make a comment on my appearance is beyond me?

"I'm fine here alone." My trembling fingers turn on the water so I can brush my teeth and wash my face before I climb into that bed that's calling my name. "I want Henry to enjoy every second while we are here."

"Well," the clarity and volume in Emma's voice startles me and persuades my body to jump back in shock. The sheepish appearing woman is leaning against the doorframe, wincing at my startled response. "Do you need anything? I can run to the store and get you something for your stomach."

"I'm alright," I repeat, but my shaky fingers as I fumble for my toothbrush are inevitably selling me out. "I just need some rest, that's all."

"How about some aspirin for your body aches?"

"Honestly Emma, I'm fine. Will you please just give me a moment so I can wash up?" I exasperate, because her concern is really just adding more reason to adore her and I am not in the mood to battle against my feelings right now.

"Right," she mutters, slowly exiting our bathroom before I hear the sound of a zipper being yanked open.

I quickly prepare myself for bed, regardless of the time only being one in the afternoon. However, between the three hour time change and hurling up all my internal organs, I seem to be completely drained of any energy.

When I step back into the bedroom, Emma is shoving her duffel bag into the closet and Henry is practically skipping with joy into our room.

"How about we grab some food and eat on the beach?" Our son suggests before plopping down on top of Emma's bed.

"I would love to honey, but I really need to rest after that flight."

My bare feet pad across the marble floors, stopping in front of Emma's bed so I can run my fingers through Henry's hair and smile at my son in hopes that I'm not letting him down.

"That's alright mom, I know you had a rough time. So, get some rest so we can spend the whole day tomorrow exploring."

"Of course." I flash him another smile and lazily make my way toward my bed.

"Do you want the patio door open? Maybe the warm fresh air will help you sleep?" Emma offers, while I shrug noncommittally. She opens the door wide and inhales a sharp breath of the ocean breeze. "Alright, we will get out of your hair now."

They both wave goodbye and slip out of the room, closing the door behind them. I crawl into the cool crisp sheets and sigh in relief when my limbs sink into the cozy bed.

Emma has been so sweet, so thoughtful and worried about my wellbeing that it's only causing my heart to ache even more for the corky blonde. I would never act on my feelings because I know she is happy with Hook and I would never break up her happy home. I'm just not sure how I'm going to survive this trip with so much free time alone with her.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Mom?" The faint sound of my son's voice carries through my dreamless sleep, but exhaustion is still clouding the better portion of my brain. "Mom, you should probably wake up now." My eyes obey before my mind can say otherwise, fluttering open slowly to discover a blurry version of my son sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Henry," my sleep induced, raspy voice croaks out.

"Hey. You've been sleeping awhile now. Emma thought I should probably check on you." The corner of his mouth deepens into a concerned frown. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I blink away the sleep and slowly push myself up in bed, resting my back against the headboard. "What time is it?" I question as my eyes shift around the room for some sort of clue.

"Eight o'clock at night."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry I missed out on the entire day," I quickly apologize, but Henry's already waving me off.

"No worries. Emma and I actually fell asleep ourselves on the beach for a little bit," he softly laughs to himself, easing away the guilt that's bristling deep inside of me. "But Emma thought you've been sleeping awhile now and maybe you should try and eat something."

_Of course she's concerned, Savior mentality through and through._

"I'm not sure I have the courage to eat greasy pizza," I sarcastically quip, knowing that Emma most likely ordered a pizza this evening.

"Well we saved you a piece just in case," I roll my eyes, just as I suspected, "...but she is just finishing up with some chicken noodle soup too."

I blink in surprise, because truthfully I never thought of Emma making soup for me.

"Which can is it from?" I whisper, not wanting Emma to overhear our conversation.

Henry frowns in response. "No can," he shakes his head dismissively before pushing himself off my mattress. "Come on, we are about to relax and watch a movie."

I run my fingers through my hair to tame my wild locks and follow my son's lead into the living room, admiring the cool marble floors below my feet.

"Hey! You're alive," Emma happily shouts from the small kitchen area, while I grimace because I can only imagine what kind of train wreck I am now after such a long deep sleep. "How about some soup?"

My feet shuffle toward her direction as I peek over the counter in search of a famous red can. "Where did you buy it from?" My dry throat scratches out causing the cheerful blonde to scrunch her nose.

"I made it myself."

"You can make soup?" I inquire completely baffled by her claim.

A deep frown tugs at the corner of her lips, reminding me so much of our son moments ago. "Yes." She quickly sweeps toward a cabinet and pulls down a bowl. Slowly, she scoops up the boiling soup into a ladle and pours the steaming liquid into the bowl. "Maybe you forgot, but I did have Henry on my own for that year in New York. Shocking as it maybe, he did get sick during that time."

"I just didn't think you knew how to cook," I boldly state, inching my way closer so I can inspect this so called _soup_.

"I-I didn't really..." the insecurity in her voice catches my attention, persuading my judgmental eyes to flick up toward hers. "I never knew how to cook before that missing year, but...I don't know, it's silly," she waves off the idea bouncing around in her head and offers me the bowl.

My eyes fall toward the small space between us, taking in the bright orange from the carrots, the deep yellow broth and the extra large spiral noodles that Henry would only eat when he was sick. Then it all clicks, a piece to the puzzle snaps into place, forcing my eyes to meet hers once again.

"This is my recipe," I whisper in shock.

"Yeah," she quietly responds, shrugging one shoulder in uncertainty. A soft pink tinge flares up upon her high cheekbones as she shifts awkwardly between her feet. "I think when you gave me those new memories, you implanted some recipes into my head."

_Oh if she only knew..._

My hands spring to life and happily accept the bowl waiting for me. "Thank you."

She smiles back with so much pride that I actually wonder if she's used to receiving any sort of gratitude from another human. It's off putting for a moment because one would assume that her husband thanks her on a regular basis for everything that she does for that one handed pirate. Yet, there's this shimmer in her eye that expresses so much excitement and divulges her little secret that her thoughtful actions go unappreciated.

"Go sit down. Henry's about to start a movie." My attention wanders toward the big pot on the stove, but before I can comment she's already cutting me off. "I'm going to clean this up real quick and then I'll be in to join you."

"You made the soup, I can help clean up," I insist, but she's already shaking her head and cleaning up the small mess.

"I got it, Regina. Go hang out with Henry."

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You already said that, now go."

I offer her a small smile before slowly walking into the living room, my fingers wound tightly around the warm ceramic dish. I sweep my feet beneath my bottom and curl up into the edge of the couch. Henry is lounging on the recliner beside me, appearing absolutely exhausted.

"How was your day? What did you and Emma do?" I inquire before gently blowing on my soup.

Now that this delicious smelling broth is floating up through my nose, I'm starting to realize just how hungry I actually am. It's been about twenty-four since I've actually consumed anything besides coffee and water and the thought alone is making my taste buds water in anticipation.

"We went downstairs and found a small deli which was perfect for some sub sandwiches," Henry begins, craning his neck to meet my gaze. "We took those down to the beach and then like I said we fell asleep for little bit. Then we actually went into the ocean when we woke up and mom..."

"Yes, honey?"

"It was amazing! Nothing like the little waves that wash up to shore at the edge of Storybrooke. These were huge," he over annunciates, reminding me so much of his younger self and how excited and animated he would become when telling stories.

"Well I can't wait to spend a day down there. It sounds wonderful."

"Then we came back up here around four, had to shower away all the sand. Then we ordered pizza and ate and just kinda been lazy. We are both pretty exhausted from the flight."

"Jet leg," Emma chimes in as she flops into the cushions on the other side of the couch I'm sitting on. "I don't know if I can stay up through this movie."

"Since I've slept the entire day away, I think I can manage," I reply, slowly sipping my soup.

The hot liquid runs down my throat, coating my tender abused area before warming my chest and stomach. This is exactly what I needed to help regain my strength.

"Well I'll just put it on and see how far we all make it," our son chuckles as his finger pushes the play button.

"How's the soup?" Emma questions with piqued interest.

"Honestly," I raise one eyebrow as my spoon swirls around the combination of ingredients. "Better than I expected."

"Is that a backhanded compliment?"

"Take whatever compliment you receive, Miss Swan," I drawl out in a teasing manner, the faintest of smirks playing at my lips.

"And Mayor Mills has returned. Your snarky attitude still intact I see," she muses right back.

"She never really left dear, just incapacitated for a short period."

"Good, because you'll always be Madam Mayor to me."

_And just like that she takes off with my heart once again._


	4. Chapter Four

Thick, sticky heat clings to my body like a second skin, forcing my legs to kick away the thin linen sticking to my skin. A soft snoring from the other side of the room catches my attention, persuading my sleepy eyes to drift toward the noise.

Emma's blonde mane is a mess, tossed hazardously across her pillows, burying her face in a sea of golden tresses. My mind flicks back to the only time I've ever slept near the other woman in Neverland. I don't ever remember her snoring, but then again she wasn't able to sleep a wink from the sorrowful cries of lost boys.

At the time, I was so focused on saving Henry that I didn't think to ever offer her comfort. I was still on my high horse back then, struggling to fight against my inner demons and I refused to appear weak or show any emotion especially toward the sheriff. I now am fully aware that I ended up screwing myself over in the end, because I sat on the sidelines hanging onto my pride while Neal and Hook were fighting for her love and attention. That should have been my time to swoop in and actually be her friend so I could make sly comments about the two idiots and we could both laugh at their childish ways.

Instead, I'm forced to watch her everyday parading around with a man that never deserved her time or attention, let alone her love. From what Snow has been gushing about for the past month or so, I'm fairly certain I will be forced to watch that happy couple create a child together and apart of me aches to know that she will raise a child without me. There's something intimate about sharing a child and raising them with another parent. It's a type of bond that settles in the heart and could never be ripped away.

I understand that I have no right or claim on Emma Swan, but we do share a special connection because of Henry and soon she will share the bond with someone else. A part of me wishes to be somewhere far away when this situation plays itself out.

"Good morning," Emma's scratchy morning voice tears through my inappropriate thoughts and fills my heart with a whole new appreciation for the woman. I'm not sure how this woman can be so sexy and so adorable all at the same time.

"Hey."

"How do you feel?" She questions, stretching her longs limbs to peek out of the sheets.

"Perfectly fine," I vow as I watch her curl onto her side to offer her full attention.

She slips one hand between her cheek and the soft pillow as a lazy grin plays at her lips. "I'm glad," she mumbles, appearing to still be in a sleepy haze.

I remain on my back, staring aimlessly at the white ceiling above, because I know if I turn to meet her sappy gaze I will melt all over. So, I settle for small little glances out of my peripheral, hoping she doesn't uncover my secret.

"Should we take Henry out for breakfast this morning?" I inquire, my fingers nervously tapping against my stomach.

"Mmm-I'm fine with a bagel," she hums, her body scooting closer toward the edge of the bed. "What's on your itinerary today?"

"I assumed Henry would want to relax his first day here, so I only scheduled one college tour today, but that isn't until three o'clock."

"Good, because I'm feeling extra lazy today," she groans, inching her way closer toward my bed and if she isn't careful she will tumble right off her own bed.

"Moms!" Henry barges into our room with his nose buried in his phone. He clambers on top of Emma's bed, settling at the foot while his finger continues to scroll. "I was thinking maybe today we could go to the Santa Monica Pier. There's so much to do, the beach, restaurants, arcade and even rides."

"Kid, I don't think your mom's stomach can handle any roller coasters right now," Emma breathes a laugh through her nose while sliding up in bed, resting her back against the headboard.

I mimic her action, straightening my posture. "I'm fine, really. Henry we can go to the pier, I think we will really enjoy ourselves."

"Great, I'm going to go shower and get ready."

"We'll do the same and we can get some bagels or donuts on the way," Emma offers as Henry climbs off her bed and exits our room. "You wanna shower first?"

"Yes, I need to scrub away the awful stench of airplane."

"Not the sweet scent of your vomit and sweat though, right?" Emma teases, her lips twisting to fight against her playful smirk.

"Your horrible attempt at humor is not welcome," I muse, slipping out of my bed and subconsciously straightening the sheets and comforter. "Besides, my head was inside the tiny toilet, I did not spill any-"

"Are you seriously making your bed?" Emma cuts me off instantly. "You understand how hotels work, right?"

"Just because someone is required to clean up after us doesn't mean that we are allowed to be inconsiderate and live like slobs."

"That's exactly what it means," Emma rebuttals, a cocky grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

I toss my pillows on top of the comforter, rolling my eyes at her lazy ways. "I'm going to shower, maybe you should take this time to unpack your clothes," I note, nodding toward the duffel bag half shoved under the bed.

"Or maybe I can take this time to catch a few more minutes of sleep," she slumps back down in the bed and flips onto her stomach, cuddling her pillow beneath her face. "These mattresses are like big fluffy clouds," she mumbles into the thick pillow.

"Is your bed at home not comfortable? I am fairly confident that you can afford another mattress if it isn't," I laugh lightly, but something in Emma sobers up and a blanket of silent drapes over our awkward silence. "Em-"

"Go shower, Henry's going to be ready by the time you get out," she claims and then turns over to face the other side of the room, informing me that our conversation is over.

Some eerie sensation tugs in my gut and leaves behind a bitter taste in my mouth. I know that something is wrong, something is bothering Emma, but clearly she doesn't feel comfortable confiding in me which sends another wave of unsettling feelings to wash over me.

_We always confide in one another, we have an understanding and we trust each other._

XXXXXXXXX 

The rays of sun stream down across the Santa Monica Pier, highlighting the glowing signs of each little shop, the Ferris Wheel that looks out onto the beach and the waves that are slowly rolling against the white sandy shoreline.

The cocoa colored wooden planks stretch over the sand and sea with an energetic buzz swarming through the air. Young couples are walking hand in hand enjoying the atmosphere and the warm golden sun while children laugh and pull their parents to their next adventure.

"Before we start," Emma points to a small shop, her eyes already sparkling with excitement, "Coffee Bean and Tea Leaves. I could use an iced coffee. Regina?"

"Sure, I'll take one." I'm already reaching into my pocket for money, but Emma's voice stills my actions.

"I got this, put your money away. Henry, do you want a Frappuccino?"

"Yeah, I'll take a mocha."

"Emma really, I can pay for my-"

"It's really not a big deal Regina," she waves off the idea and steps forward in line, dismissing me altogether and proceeding to order our drinks.

I know my mind could read far into the friendly gesture, so I busy myself with my son something I find myself doing a lot as of lately.

"So, Henry, what is the first thing you want to do. I would say it's safe to assume that this boardwalk will accommodate your every desire," I playfully tease.

Henry and I both gaze out across the expanse of the pier. My eyes roaming over the small gift shops and various restaurants while my son's interest seems to be piqued by the attractions and ride that guarantee to flip my stomach upside down and shake its contents out like a cartoon bully in search of his victim's money.

"Drinks all around," Emma interrupts, handing both of us our drinks before she wraps her mouth around a giant pastry.

"Seriously? You just ate," I deadpan.

"Yeah, but look at this thing," Emma pushes the sticky treat into my face, causing my nose to scrunch in disgust from all the sugar that thing must obtain. "This has to be the best bear claw ever," she raves, inching the donut beneath my nose.

"Stop," I push her hand away, but she just laughs in response, already jabbing the pastry near my mouth again.

"Just try it Regina. I promise you won't regret it."

"No," I sternly object, backing away from the waving donut that actually smells delicious, but I would never admit that to Emma.

"Just one bite."

"Absolutely not."

"A lick."

"Disgusting."

"I promise you'll love it."

"You are such a child Miss Swan," I use her formal last name to just irritate her since she seems to be enjoying pestering me.

"I'm thinking that West Coaster roller coaster," confidently breezes from my son's mouth taking me by surprise and abruptly ending my squabble with the sheriff.

My attention flicks toward the massive steel roller coaster, my eyes seeking out the yellow and red decorated car that's smoothly gliding along the track, twisting and turning over the ocean below. Hands are thrown up wildly in the air, fighting against the wind as people scream in delight...or maybe fright.

"Are you sure about that?" I question before my gaze lands upon my traveling companions again, both grinning madly around their straws. "You've never been on something quite like that before."

"Yes I have."

My eyebrows pinch painfully together as I study my son's face, baffled by his casual tone. "Henry, I would remember if I ever took you to an amusement park before. I can assure you, I've never taken you on a roller coaster before."

"You haven't, but mom has," he claims as his eyes wander over to his other mother.

"Yeah, during that missing year in New York, Henry and I spent a lot of time at amusement parks and carnivals during the summer," she happily explains as her mind shuffles through all those exciting memories of their life without Storybrooke and fairytale characters.

"Oh, I see."

Emma's eyes quickly widen, a speck of guilt shining through those golden flecks as she stares nervously at the side of my face. That missing year was the hardest period in my life. I was nothing without my son and the gaping hole in my heart almost killed me everyday.

"So mom, are you ready to ride?"

I blink at my son, torn between wanting to please my son and valuing my life.

"Come on Regina, it will be a lot of fun," Emma chimes in, already padding her feet across the pier in the direction of the roller coaster.

"I think it's best if I sit this one out, someone needs to hold our drinks."

"That's a lame excuse Madam Mayor," Emma teases. "Speaking of..." she trails off until she knows she has my undivided attention.

"What?"

"Are you sporting dress shorts and a collar at the beach?" She inquires about my apparel in what seems to be shock.

I glance down at my choice of clothing this morning and assess my shorts. "They are black shorts, what's wrong with them?"

"Black _jean_ shorts would have been fine, but..." her fingers slash through the space between us to feel the material in questioning. "...what is that, polyester?"

My instincts take over and I'm swatting her hand away like a pesky fruit fly. "Stop," this simple command seems to get a rise out of our son because he's chuckling along side of us.

"And what the hell Regina, why does your shirt have a collar?"

"It's a tank top first of all," I defend.

"That is a button down."

"It's sheer."

"It's predictable."

"Excuse me?" I growl in a low threatening tone because, unlike her attitude lately, my sass and fight are still in tact.

"Typical Regina Mills fashion, black dress shorts, a white sheer button down blouse, collar included. I'm actually shocked that you haven't cried once for your five inch heels," Emma declares with an over exaggerated eye roll.

There's the fight in Emma that I've been missing for far too long. Instantly, a spark of electricity zaps through my veins, stronger than a bolt of lightening.

"Well excuse me for not raiding the local thrift store, Emma. Is white the only color this scrap of cotton comes in?" I muse while snaking my index finger beneath the strap resting over her shoulder and tugging the material firmly before I allow the garment to snap back against her porcelain skin.

"We are at the pier Regina, there's sand and ocean. There's no need for anything expensive out here. My jean shorts and tank top fit in just fine with their surroundings."

"After all these years, you two still find things to bicker about." Our son easily steps into our banter with a chuckle behind his words. "You used to fight over me, then you fought about villains, now it's the clothes you're wearing? Maybe I'm not the reason behind your bickering after all."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Emma defensively fires back, but our son just smirks.

"It means that you're just as infuriatingly annoying as you were eight years ago," I retort before she suspects a damn thing.

"Stop being so melodramatic," Emma huffs and puffs, shoving her free hand into the tiny back pocket of her skimpy shorts. "Now, are you gonna ride this thing or not?"

I hadn't even noticed during our quarrel that we ended up directly in front of the roller coaster. The loud screams thunder against my eardrum, while the steel poles rattle violently beside us. My head falls back so my eyes can inspect every inch of this death trap. It seems I made a mistake insinuating that Emma's yellow bug is a death trap, because clearly this roller coaster before me is a menace to mankind and gambles a person's life for fun. This is an actual death trap in my book.

"Like I said before, I need to hold our drinks. We are not throwing away fifteen dollars worth of coffee."

"How about I hold the drinks and you go with Henry," she offers kindly, but I am no fool. I see that spark of challenge glistening in her eye and it's been too long since I've seen that fire.

"It's your thing with Henry, I would never want to deprive you from something that you both hold near and dear to your heart," I reply in my most sticky sweet voice.

"Chicken," Emma mutters under her breath, shoving her drink into my hand along with her half eaten bear claw wrapped in wax paper.

"Don't worry I'll be here to raise our son when you fall off that death trap."

"It has seatbelts and besides if I die on here then Henry will too."

"What?" Henry blinks, clearly he had stopped listening to our back and forth banter, but the mention of his death caught his attention.

Emma rolls her eyes and squeezes our son's shoulders. "There's no way we are going to die. Now let's go." She guides him toward the line that thankfully isn't too long while I wait patiently for them to return.

I spot a bench near the exit of the ride and place all three drinks beside me. I resume holding the bear claw in my hand, the sweet aroma continuously wafting passed my nose as the breeze gently blows around me. I swear the treat is taunting me, the sticky goodness becomes more appealing as the minutes tick by and my mouth begins to water.

My eyes take in my surroundings, making sure a certain blonde isn't peeking around before I succumb to temptation and nibble a small bite, groaning at the delicious glaze coating the warm donut. My tongue pokes out to clear any evidence away from my lips while I contemplate buying another one for 'Emma' later, but stealing most of it.

Soon, the heavy stomps and familiar laughter fills the air and I watch as Emma playfully shoves Henry toward my bench.

"Did you two have fun?" I ask, handing back their iced coffees and Emma's bear claw.

"That was awesome. I wish there were more rides like that. There was even a light mist coming off of the ocean, it was so cool."

"I'm glad we went on that," Emma laughs as her eyes fall to her donut and an intense feeling from guilt stiffens my muscles. "Regina..."

"Hmmm?"

"Did you eat my bear claw?" She slowly interrogates as though I may not understand her question.

"Yes, Emma, I waited for you to ride the roller coaster just so I could sneak one measly bite of your sugar infested treat," I sarcastically quip, hoping she doesn't see right through me, but then again Emma knows me better than anyone.

"You did!" She squawks.

"I did not," I groan and move right passed her toward the arcade section.

"You totally did!"

"Shut up Swan."

XXXXXXXXX 

"So, is this your first time at something like this?" Emma gestures widely around us while my eyes roam over everything this pier has to offer.

Henry had just excused himself to find a bathroom after he slurped down his Frappuccino far too quickly, leaving behind his mothers once again.

"Yes, obviously we didn't have anything like this in the Enchanted Forest, although the line up of shops, in a way, resembles the market places where people would buy and trade goods. Yet, I was only there maybe once or twice," I mumble mostly to myself. "And well you know Storybrooke doesn't have carnivals or festivals."

"We should think about it though. Maybe a fall festival or one for the Forth of July," Emma enthusiastically suggests. "We need more in our town and I think maybe I could put in a good word with the Mayor. I think she's finally coming around...some might gossip that we are even friends..."

I gasp, playing along and feigning shock with a hand placed gently across my chest. "No, you actually believe the mayor likes you?"

"I mean I wouldn't go as far as _like_, but she kinda has to, we share a son," Emma laughs before nibbling on the edge of her straw, a sign of nervousness, but endearing all at the same time.

"The poor boy, the mayor and the sheriff as his parents. He won't be getting away with anything."

"That's not even the worst of it. Try the Savior and the Evil Queen as mothers, he's not getting away with shit!" Emma and I both share a good laugh over this before we fall silent, just as we always seem to do.

I swear sometimes she gazes into my eyes and she sees exactly what I feel for her, that's why I never try to hold her gaze for too long. But then there's this tension that pulsates between us like a heavy heartbeat yearning for more and neither one of us knows how to navigate through so we avert our eyes and avoid. Each and every time.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Emma softly questions around her chewed up straw.

"Of course."

"What do you mean you only visited the market place once or twice in the Enchanted Forest?"

"Do you really think it's wise to discuss that now?" I lower my voice as my self conscious eyes sweep around the area, terrified someone might overhear us and have us committed.

"Uh, I guess not."

"Alright moms? What game next?" Henry struts out of a restaurant, clasping his hands together.

"I think your mom should play Whac-A-Mole, it will help relieve some tension."

"Seriously," I drag out the small word while rolling my eyes at the teasing woman.

"Yes, I know you've never played so come on," Emma nods her head in the direction and leads the way.

"I think Emma is enjoying herself more than you," I whisper leaning into my son so the sheriff won't hear us conversing about her.

"Probably," he shrugs as his eyes follow his mother's sneakers and he smiles to himself. "She never got to do this kind of stuff when she was little, I think that's why she took me to all kinds of places like this when we lived in New York."

"Well I didn't experience this when I was younger, but you don't see me skipping around."

"It's different," he shrugs again, his eyes intently watching his other mother. "This wasn't available to you when you were little so you didn't know what you were missing. I'm sure she saw this kind of stuff all the time as a kid but none of her foster parents would bring her."

"I suppose you are right." I quickly wrap my arm around his shoulder and jerk him closer toward my torso, hating how he's so much taller than me now. "Why are you so wise?"

"Because I have you," he flashes me his most cheeky smile, a spitting image of his blonde mother before he runs ahead, nudging Emma's shoulder playfully.

"Alright, I paid, we are playing," Emma informs me as I slowly approach the machine with wide holes and a soft mallet. "It's easy, when the mole pops his head up, smash him with this," she explains, forcing the large, yet cushiony weapon in my hand.

"Alright," I slowly concede, eyeing the equipment skeptically.

"Don't hold back mom, pretend it's Pan's head popping out of there," Henry recommends prompting him and his other mother to laugh a little too hard at his joke.

"Well then I should receive the highest record," I confidently state, testing the weight of the toy in my hand.

A loud bing above our heads rings as red and yellow flashing lights catch me off guard. A plastic little mole head pops out from the circle and just like that my instincts take over and I slam the cushion down upon the machine.

"I really need a picture of Regina playing Whac-A-Mole," the obnoxious blonde laughs beside me as she rains down on three holes, one right after the other.

"It's a shame your hands are tied, dear," I chuckle, whacking mole after mole that just keep surprising me with how fast they are popping out.

"Kid, you should send a picture to Violet, she would get a kick out of this."

"Yup. Later. Busy now," Henry mumbles as his hand moves rapidly from right to left.

"Henry," I pause because it seems that almost every hole has a pesky creature peering up at me. Anxious nerves course through my body as I brutally attack the plastic pieces. "Are you and Violet alright?"

"Of course."

"Why are all the moles in every hole out?" I gasp as I frantically slam my mallet down.

"Bonus round. Get as many as you can." Emma laughs, whacking the machine with all her might.

The lights fade out, the moles all retract and just like that the game is over. Emma and Henry each take a deep breath and drop their weapons before glancing at their scores.

"Of course mom won."

"Are you playing us? Did you used to sneak to carnivals when you were bored during the first eighteen years of the curse?" Emma suspiciously questions, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes, Miss Swan, after I cast the curse I thought instead of chasing Snow around I think I'm going to drive over four hours so I can take my aggression out on a plastic creature," I snip back, mimicking her pose with my arms across my chest and my lips pursed for effect.

"It might have saved you a lot of time in Hopper's office," she tries so hard to suppress her giggling, but all too quickly it's spilling through her thin lips.

My eyebrows immediately skyrocket as I too fight against my laughter, but inevitably a small chuckles escapes. I roll my eyes at mother and son who are both laughing at my expense and push Emma toward the next game.

"Oh we are definitely trying this," our son announces not even trying to hide his excitement anymore.

Emma's giggling comes to a halt while my palms still against her back and we both gape at the reckless contraption in front of us. A giant red cart containing two seats carved into the plastic with blue harnesses stands tall. All I can presume about the attraction is that cart will be spinning and flipping hazardously in the air.

"Go on, Emma. Your presence is requested." I shove her toward our son and instantly take a step back from the insane idea of a good time.

"This is a game?" She questions, taking a step forward to read the giant sign at the entrance.

"Yeah, we move the joystick to control our speed and flips, the faster we go, the bigger the prize," our son explains, coaxing the little wheels in Emma's head to turn.

A very mischievous eyebrow crawls up toward her hairline as she turns her attention toward me and my heart stops.

"You conned your way out of the last ride, you're not getting away that easy again."

"I'm not getting on that thing, Miss Swan."

"_Miss Swan_," the corners of Emma's mouth turn down, "I see your defense mechanism is in tact."

"Say what you will, but I am not stepping one foot on that...that thing," I gesture wildly toward the human salt shaker with disgust pinching at every inch of my face.

Emma takes an assertive step forward into my personal space, a taunting smirk on full display. "So, the big bad Evil Queen, is afraid of a _child's_ ride."

"That is _not_ a child's ride, it demands a height requirement."

"A ten year old just stepped off."

"Well too bad for him, he just scrambled his brain and his future doesn't seem very bright."

"I dare you."

"Excuse me?"

There's that fire sparking again in those stunning green eyes and I find myself lost in a hypnotic trance. I haven't seen that fire burn so bright since before she became The Dark One and it's so obvious by my furiously pounding heart that I have always been drawn to the flame.

Emma takes another step forward, her cocky grin set in place while her eyes dance with the challenge and my mind travels back to the time when she took a chainsaw to my apple tree.

"I. Dare. You," she taunts in a low growl sending icy shivers to trickle down my spine, but I hold my composure and stare right back into her eyes.

"Moms?"

"Hold my coffee, Henry." I jerk my plastic cup into my son's hand while still holding the sheriff's daring eyes.

"Mom, you're really going to do this?"

"Of course. I'm Regina Mills and I'll be damned if I back down from a challenge from Emma Swan," I declare with conviction and brush right passed the blonde, bumping my shoulder into hers.

"This is gonna be great," Henry happily concludes while reaching in his pocket to pull out his phone.

"Emma," I slowly call, peering over my shoulder at the gate, "don't think that you are in the clear, my dear."

"What?"

"You're coming too."

"If it gets you on the ride then fine," Emma confidently confirms and follows my lead.

"Sixteen dollars," an older gentleman demands with his hand held out like a poor beggar.

I quickly beat Emma to the punch and slap the cash into his greasy hand. As I step through the gate, my palms begin to tingle and sweat. I swallow thickly as my stomach turns over and over again. The most dangerous contraption I have ever stepped foot in was the plane and we all know how well that worked out for me.

"You nervous?" Emma questions when she notices my hesitation in front of the large cart. I swallow down my fears and slowly exhale through my anxiety. "W-we don't have to do this if you don't want. I was just teasing."

"A dare is a dare, let's go Miss Swan."

"Miss Swan? I'm in trouble," she attempts humor, but I ignore her, taking a step forward and slowly sinking into the plastic seat. "Pull the harness down over your shoulders and clip the seatbelt," Emma sternly instructs.

"Careful, you sound like you might actually care for, what am I again? The big bad Evil Queen?"

"I'm just teasing," Emma vows, slipping into her seat and adjusting her restraint. "You know I never thought of you as the Evil Queen. You'll always be just plain old bitchy, Mayor Mills."

"So sweet dear, really you're spoiling me," I sarcastically quip, curling my fingers impossibly tight around the warm metal handrails.

The older gentleman steps between Emma and I, lazily lifting on our harnesses to make sure they are locked into place, sending a wave of nausea to wrack my entire body like a six foot wave crashing down on me.

"This here is the joystick," the man points to the handle between Emma and I. "This controls how fast you spin in circles and how many flips. Go big or go home," he mutters before trudging his heavy feet away.

"You just hang on, I'll control us," Emma offers.

"I'm not sure I trust you," and the words just barely leave my mouth before Emma slams the joystick backward and the entire cart feels like it's being yanked by our asses. "Emma!"

"I'm not sure I trust you," Emma giggles as the entire cart flips upside down. "You'll probably make us lose."

And we flip over and over and over again until I'm unsure what's the sky or what's the ground and I can't tell my feet from my ass.

"Emma Swan, you stop this insistent flipping this instant!"

"Regina," Emma barks out a laugh, but truthfully she sounds like all the air has just been sucked from her lungs. "You heard the man, go big or go home."

"Emma!"

"Regina!"

Emma mimics my tone as our cart spins around and around all while she continues to flip the cart recklessly. I'm actually terrified that this cart will fly right off the hinges.

"When we get back to Storybrooke, I'm ripping your heart right out!"

"You'd never," she laughs when suddenly the machine stops and we are suspended, god only knows how many feet in the air, upside down. "Take it back."

"What?" I shriek, my hair dangling and swaying in the wind below me.

"Promise you won't rip my heart out and I'll flip us back."

"Emma Swan," I growl in my most threatening Evil Queen tone I can manage as all the blood rushes to my head.

"Promise."

"I won't crush your heart."

"That's not what I said, I said don't rip out my heart."

"Let's agree to compromise, I'll rip out your heart, but I won't crush it."

"I can hang like this all day. I was a very bored child with no toys, I would hang upside down from a top bunk for hours."

"Liar," I choke out, my fingers growing slick with sweat as I imagine this harness giving out and I free fall to my death.

"Promise me."

"Oh for goodness sake Emma, obviously I would never rip out your heart!"

Just like that, the car flips us back. "I know, I just felt like giving you shit."

"Emma!"

The pain in the ass woman is in hysterics of laughter, a sound I'm not sure I've ever really heard come from her mouth before. My body slowly relaxes from just listening to that sweet angelic tone. I can't help but wonder why I've never heard Emma laugh like this before. It's so out of character for her, but I know now it's my new favorite place to be, on the receiving end of her childish giggles.

The vehicle soon comes to a stop, my hair in disarray as it tumbles all around my face and for the first time in a long time, I don't even mind my appearance.

Emma quickly unclasps her seatbelt and I follow suit, removing ourselves from a near death experience.

"Moms, I got the whole thing on video. It's too bad I couldn't really hear what you two were screaming back and forth about."

"You didn't miss anything you haven't heard before," I tease.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Emma questions as the old man in charge of the game calls out to us.

"Hey! You two had the highest score of the day. Go ahead and pick any stuffed animal from the top shelf.

My eyes quickly scan the crowd around us and spot a little girl maybe four years old skipping between her parents. My feet shuffle toward the small family, with a bright smile lighting up my face.

"Excuse me, we just one this silly game, but we have no need for a giant stuffed animal. Would it be alright if your daughter picks one and keeps it for us?" I kindly offer while Emma and Henry hang back.

"Oh um," husband and wife both glance at one another before both shrugging their shoulders. "Sure," the wife concludes, escorting her daughter near the prize options.

I bend down in front of the adorable little girl with big dancing brown eyes and smile. "This man said I get to pick the biggest stuffed animal here, so I'm going to let you pick, okay? And then it's all yours to keep."

The little girl nods enthusiastically through wide eyes. She smiles from ear to ear and my heart aches because somewhere in the back of my mind I'm reminded of how much I always wanted another baby, preferably a little girl.

"I want the horse!" The little girl points to a beautiful chestnut stuffed animal and jumps up and down while the employee takes down the prize from the top shelf.

"Enjoy." He says handing the toy over to me.

I nod and slowly turn my attention back to the little girl. "Here you go sweetie." I gently hand over the horse that is far too big for her to carry and laugh as she attempts to walk away with it.

"Thank you! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, I hope you take care of him and feed him lots of apples."

"Really Regina?" Emma snickers from somewhere behind me.

"Thanks again," the mother says through a warm gentle smile before helping her daughter carry the overstuffed toy.

"No problem."

The happy family skips away while the three of us watch. Emma leans into my side and pauses allowing her warm vanilla scent to fill my senses before she whispers. "See, you were never the Evil Queen."


	5. Chapter Five

After more rides, games and junk food down at the Santa Monica Pier, we had to rush back to the hotel room so we could shower and change for our three o'clock appointment at The Los Angeles Film School.

The three of us walked the campus, inside and out while peeking into classrooms and admiring the beautiful scenery. If I'm being completely honest with myself, this school did not hold Henry's interest. Emma and I made sure we took some brochures home with us, but Henry just tossed them on the seat beside him on our way home, never once taking a gander at them.

"May I ask what it was about that school that you didn't particularly care for?" I inquire, setting a water down in front of my son as we gather around the small kitchen table.

"I don't know..." he trails off, glaring at the different brochures laid out in front of him. "It just didn't feel right."

"Well that's okay, maybe you will like one of these," Emma cheerfully concludes as she steals a pamphlet out from under him. "How many schools did you book appointments for?"

"Four, we can always schedule more if they don't meet your criteria," I recommend as I watch my son's face drain from all color leaving behind an ashen sickly hue to his cheeks.

"Mom, every school you picked out is at least forty grand a year, that's insane."

"Not _every_ school," I lamely protest while my fingers snatch up the pamphlet I know is far cheaper than the rest. "University of California Los Angeles, this is a wonderful art school with film as well and it's around twenty-three thousand a year. Besides, there's no need for you to fret over money," I assure him with a confident smile, but he's not returning the gesture.

"Seriously Henry, please don't worry about money," Emma gently rests her hand upon his shoulder, but the anxiety knotting his tense posture is far too obvious to ignore. "Between your mom and I we can cover this."

"The first curse really out shined itself in the wealth department," I chuckle to help ease my son's apprehension about the situation. "I don't pay a mortgage, or a car payment, we don't travel, I promise money is not an issue my dear."

"I guess," he shrugs expressing how he doesn't believe a word Emma and I are feeding him.

"Please hold back some of your enthusiasm," his other mother remarks playfully. "Come on kid, this is your dream! Cali, film school, this is what you've been talking about for awhile now."

"Maybe something's missing," he confesses, his lips pressing firmly together as his mind tries to sort out his feelings. "Maybe this..." his words trail off into an oblivion where Emma and I are band from, never allowed to see our son's true emotions and anguish. "Maybe I'm just feeling overwhelmed. I think I'm going to head into my room and relax."

"By relax you mean call Violet," Emma lightly teases in attempt to blow away the dark storm cloud hovering over our son.

"Yup, exactly," Henry grumbles under his breath before he treks into his room with heavy feet and an even heavier heart.

Once his door slams shut, Emma slouches back against her chair and fiddles with the corner of a brochure. "What the hell is his problem? We had so much fun all day."

"Something has been off with him for awhile now. Every time we discuss his future he shuts down, clams up and becomes very defensive," I explain.

Emma sighs heavily, slumping even further into her chair as she absorbs the information I just handed her.

As of lately, Henry's been sleeping at my house more often than he did a year or two ago. After everything I went through with Robin in the beginning of our relationship and Henry showed up at my door demanding that I stop hiding out and that he actually missed me, Emma and I have shared custody with Henry. There was never a set schedule in place, wherever Henry wanted to sleep was fine by us, we never commented or made a fuss because we wanted what was best for him. For the most part, he would always spend three days with her and then three days with me and he would just continue this cycle.

However, his senior year, he has spent most nights at my house. Emma has never mentioned anything that I'm aware of, but I wonder why Henry will only sleep at his other mother's house once a week, if that? I also, can't help but speculate, if it has something to do with Hook and maybe Henry and Emma have discussed this between them and decided to leave me in the dark.

"He'll come around, he always does," Emma insists, but the frown embedded deep into her cheeks isn't helping my concern for our current situation.

"Wine?" I quickly offer needing a little help to ease my worries.

"Sure," Emma stands tall, organizing the pamphlets into a neat pile while I head for the refrigerator. "How about we take it out on the patio? It's so nice out this evening."

"Of course."

I follow Emma through our suite, a chilled bottle of white wine in one hand and two glasses dangling upside down from my fingertips. Emma slides the patio door open, granting a warm breeze to brush against my cool skin. I step out onto the patio as my friend closes the door behind me.

Two lounge chairs made of wicker and topped with fluffy cushions, face out toward the orange sunset painted beautifully across the ocean. We both sink into the cushions decorated in seashells as I offer Emma a glass. I pop the cork to the sweet wine and pour each of us a glass, settling the bottle somewhere between our chairs.

"This is absolutely breathtaking," I breathe out, my eyes fixated on the different hues of orange and pink skillfully sweeping across the sky.

"It really is," Emma agrees and out of the corner of my eye, I watch as her bare toes wiggle against the warm gentle breeze.

A small smile creeps along my lips as I notice the red nail polish painted upon her toes. I never really thought whether or not she maintained her toes, considering they are always hidden away in her clunky boots. In the eights years that I've known her, I've never seen her feet and for some strange reason I feel like she's divulging in a little secret of hers.

We both fall silent, a comfortable silence though as we take the time to bask in this moment, admiring the sunset and listening as the waves roll against the shoreline below. Both of us are constantly fighting villains and rushing around through our lives, so it's about time that we both just sit back, relax and actually appreciate our time here on Earth.

"Hey, now that we aren't surrounded by strangers," Emma breaks through the silence, her head falling to the side so she can gauge my reaction, "earlier we were talking about the market place, wouldn't you have attended more than once or twice?"

My lips immediately purse in dissatisfaction, I really thought I side swiped that question earlier. My fingers quickly busy themselves with rotating the stem of the glass as a simple distraction from the ache I know is to come in my heart.

"Well, when I was younger, we always had servants who would run the errands for us. My father took me one time when I was maybe six or seven years old, just to show me what it was like outside our castle walls." I pause, allowing myself the time I need to push through this topic of conversation because speaking of my childhood is something I never do from all the painful memories I have buried so deep in my soul.

"You weren't allowed outside the castle?" Emma naively questions because of course she never truly understood how the Enchanted Forest worked. Spending a couple of weeks there with her mother, just trying to find a way home the entire time does not help paint the picture of the true lifestyle.

"No," I softly confess. My muscles instantly coil in protest, reminding me not to travel down this path again, for it will only cause me harm, but this is Emma and I do trust her. "I was a princess, no..." I sigh heavily and shake my head before resting it against the lounge chair. "Princesses were allowed to leave with their parents. I, on the other hand, was not allowed to leave according to my mother."

"How come?" She timidly questions while swallowing hard enough to create an audible gulp, expressing how unsure she is to learn the truth.

"You knew my mother, she was cruel, controlling and demanding. It was either her way or no way. I was her princess, I was created to live the life she was denied. She expected perfection and a trip to the market place...a trip anywhere was a waste of time when I could be in my room learning more about our history and trade, or to straighten my posture more for tea time, or ride properly with a saddle," I explain with far too much disdain dripping from my words.

It's been far too long since I've discussed my past and by my current tone and the tension forming in my shoulders, it would appear that I am not quite over my tormented childhood like I had initially suspected.

"I-I am sorry. The only thing I really know what about your childhood with Cora is from what I saw in the dream catcher when she...well the time with Daniel," she mutters quietly as though she's regretting every word that's spilling passed her lips.

"I know, this is something I don't often share. With anyone."

"Well what about when you were older?" She thankfully turns the topic away from my childhood.

"I had my servants and guards to do my bidding. There was one other time that I did visit, but I was distracted by plotting a scheme to pay any attention to my surroundings."

Emma leans over her chair into the small gap between us and clinks the rims of our glasses together. "It seems we both had deprived childhoods."

I nod along as we both sip our wine to the depressing toast of our painful past.

"So you never experienced trips like today at a carnival or festival when you were younger?" I press in hopes that she will open herself up just a little bit more to me.

"Nope," she hastily responds, her eyes traveling back out toward the sea either to help her cope with confronting her past or maybe she's in search for something. "Most foster parents I had were pretty scummy, except for two," and just like that her mouth snaps shut and seals the vault to her hidden secrets.

I slowly sip my wine and debate if I should push for more information or just be glad with what she has offered. I have never been one to keep my mouth shut, so I find the words tumbling from my mouth without too much thought.

"Would you care to tell me about those exceptional two?"

My eyes crawl toward her direction, but my face remains forward so she doesn't notice my gaze. Her thin lips are twisting and turning in a pout as she mulls over her options; tell the truth, lie or completely dismiss the question altogether.

"Well...one of them was Ingrid believe it or not. She actually took really good care of me," she nods affirming her statement and there's the faintest of smiles playing at her lips.

"That's not hard to believe with how much she was craving your attention."

"Yeah," her head falls back against the cushion as her fingers nervously dance against her glass, playing the keys to an invisible piano for just her to hear. "She actually did take me to a carnival one time. My first one ever and I was fifteen. We played all kinds of games and just laughed and laughed. That was the day that she dropped a bomb on me, saying she wanted to adopt me."

"Really? What happened?"

"She went crazy. Well at the time I thought she was crazy because she was talking about magic and my power inside and I just had to find it. Obviously, she was right on the money, but I just thought, '_great someone finally_ _wants to adopt me and they are straight out of the looney bin'_. So I ran away."

"Is it hard now, knowing what you know about her and magic?"

"Yes, because if I would have stayed I know she would've taken care of me. But that's just a stupid game of what ifs, because in the end I would have never had Henry."

"I know what you mean. People ask all the time if I regret casting the curse and how could I when it brought me Henry?" Slowly, I swing my legs over the chair and face Emma, resting my elbows upon my knees as I lean forward. "Emma, I never truly apologized for what happened to you."

"Regina-"

"No, please." I scoot a little closer and struggle to meet those sparkling green eyes that still hold so much pain. "You had a very rough start in life and I need to apologize and take responsibility for my actions."

"Regina, it's not your fault. My parents could've kept me and we could've all been cursed together, but they chose to send me away for the greater good."

"That doesn't matter. They wouldn't have had to send you away if it wasn't for my curse. So, Emma, I'm sorry."

The corner of her mouth deepens as she gazes into my eyes and a settling feeling washes over me, expressing that maybe she has already forgiven me.

"Apology accepted, Regina. Now can we move passed this?" A full smile breaks across her lips and I'm quickly nodding along, falling back into the comfort of my seat.

"The other one?"

"What?"

"You said two people treated you well, who was the other?"

"Oh," her eyes drift down to stare into her wine, before she decides to pour herself another glass. "I was fifteen again right before I was sent to live with Ingrid there was this sweet family." She hovers the bottle over my glass and doesn't even wait for my approval before she tops off my drink. "They were an amazing couple with two kids. They were even gonna take me camping. I was so excited for that trip, but Lily came and ruined everything, you know that story," she huffs and falls back into her seat.

"And that was it? The rest of the parents were cruel?"

"Some were cruel," she shrugs, very clearly trying to shake off the memory that still taunts her. "Some were just lazy and neglectful."

"May I ask about the first family? Henry had told me a long time ago that you were adopted."

"I was, but they sent me back when I was three," she stiffly replies and I know I'm pushing too far, but I think this would be great for our friendship to share just a little more about our pasts.

"How could someone give away a three year old baby girl?" I sigh.

"I-I don't know. I ask myself that every day, but I don't really remember that time in my life so who knows how bad I was," she coldly remarks, creating an awful pain to surge right through my heart.

"Emma, there's nothing a three year old baby could have done to make a parent want to send their baby away. Clearly, there was something radically wrong with them. If I was still the Evil Queen I would offer to murder them for you, but I have an inkling our son would frown upon that." This helps brighten Emma's spirits and she actually laughs, a full wholehearted chuckle that warms my cold heart.

"Thanks Regina. From what I heard, they had a baby of their own and couldn't handle me with the baby."

"Maybe they couldn't handle their _finances_ and wanted you to be in a better home," I gently offer instead of the horrible assumptions she has bouncing around in the back of her mind.

"You know, I never really thought of it that way," she shrugs, pulling the cool liquid into her mouth and swallowing thickly before she continues. "Makes sense actually. Thanks, I'll just pretend from now on that's what happened."

"I'm almost positive that was the case."

Another silence falls upon us, but again it's a comfortable one and I actually take a second to process our similar backgrounds. Both of us, never truly feeling worthy of love from the neglect or cruel behaviors from the adults in our lives.

"I do remember one thing..." Emma mumbles mostly to herself.

"I'm sorry?"

"I do have one memory from that first family."

"Would you like to share?" I softly suggest to help persuade her into spilling this secret or maybe it's a memory that just sort of sparked in her mind from our this trip down memory lane.

"Yeah, I would, actually." Emma smiles, a content expression washing over her face as she turns to meet my curious gaze. There's a soft pink hue splattered across her high cheekbones, persuading my body to lean just a smidge closer feeling intrigued on what's to come. "It's kinda silly, but I remember a song. I remember my-the mom flying a spoon in the air. I-I can't really remember what she looks like, but I remember her big smile."

"Do you remember how the song went?" I curiously press on for more information, provoking the pink blush to burn crimson. "You do remember, please Emma spill."

Big green eyes roll as she slowly wets her lips. "Chew, chew, chew, wonder-ific you're terrific my Emma. Chew, chew, chew!"

I press my lips together firmly to hold hostage the laughter that's threatening. My cheeks burn from the struggle while Emma sinks down in her chair to hide from embarrassment.

"That's-"

"Shut it, Regina!"

"No Emma, that's really adorable that you remember that."

"I was three."

"I didn't say anything," I innocently respond, holding my hands up in surrender.

"Clearly I had an issue with scarfing down my food and not chewing," she meekly defends.

"_Had_?" I sarcastically quip because it seems the grown woman still suffers from the same eating habit.

"Name one time you've seen me choke."

"No, you're right dear," I solemnly confirm. "You have learned how to chew."

"I hate you."

"I know," I smirk to myself and watch as the sun slowly descends from the sky.

Another silence fills the space between us while Emma's free toes curl through her anxiety about sharing too much. I decide I need something to break through the moment and there's nothing like my teasing that will inevitably break the tension.

My feet start to sway side to side as I begin a lazy hum that matches the beat Emma sang her special song in. Gradually, Emma turns her attention toward my feet, a death glare set upon her face.

"Chew, chew, chew," I softly sing. "Wonder-ific you're terrific my Emma. Chew, chew, chew."

"No more sharing secrets. Ever."

"Don't be such a spoiled sport," I groan, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill our drinks.

Maybe it's the cool liquid running wildly through our bloodstream or maybe it's the simple peace of mind that a villain isn't going to come crashing down upon this patio, but I have never seen Emma so relaxed before. Truthfully, _I've_ never felt this relaxed before and I refuse to waste a minute of this bliss.

"Did you ever think we would make it here?" Emma softly questions, her abrupt switch in tone grasping my full attention.

"Here, as in California?"

"No, here as friends. Did you ever think we would be sitting here, drinking, swapping stories and actually getting along?"

"Truthfully, no. I really did find you insufferable back then," I declare as my nails nervously strum against my glass.

"Regina-"

"You can't honestly say that I didn't drive you mad."

"Oh you did, I'm shocked that I went from hating you to considering you my family."

"There's a very thin line between love and hate, dear."

My mouth slams shut as my mind plays back what careless mistake I just allowed to slip out. A tangible thickness cracks between us when I realize she's not responding, but I can sense her eyes studying me like a new Hell Beast swarming around her head from another world.

"Uh-" the nervous woman awkwardly clears her throat before she stammers through some half ass reply. "Yeah, we found a common ground, the love we share for Henry helped erase away that thin line."

"Right, the love we share for Henry brought us to where we are now."

"Right."

"Right," I repeat as my heart pounds viciously against my chest and my entire body breaks out in a sweat from the idea of her ever discovering the truth behind my words.

"Regina?" Her voice breaks on my name.

"I'm happy we found this common ground. I value your friendship along with your mother's and I know we would have never found this, whatever this is, if it weren't for our love for Henry," I hastily cut her off before either one of us makes this moment anymore unbearable.

"Right," she halfheartedly agrees and slumps back against her chair.

Neither one of us speaks again as we watch the exuberant glowing sun finally retire from its day in the sky and disappears into the ocean below. Within a matter of seconds there's a chill lingering in the breeze and all too quickly Emma is standing.

I think for a moment she is about to head off to bed, but she doesn't bother saying good night and I never knew the lack of such a mediocre phrase could hurt this much. Emma slips into the hotel, leaving the patio door open behind her and I roll my eyes at the laziness of the woman.

As I slowly stretch my arm behind the chair to close the sliding door, Emma comes bouncing around the corner with two throw blankets in hand. My hand stills in midair as she slips back out onto the patio and smiles softly.

"It's a little chilly without the sun, would you like one?" She kindly offers, settling my nervous energy that only seems to surface when she is around.

"Thank you," I whisper, encouraging her to drape the blanket across my bare legs.

Emma proceeds to empty the remainder of the bottle into our wine glasses and snuggles up back into her lounge chair.

"I peeked in Henry's room, the kid's fast asleep. Probably all those hormones exhausting his body," she teases, easily falling back into our conversation before things took an awkward turn.

"Well good, hopefully a well nights rest will alleviate his moody teenager attitude."

"When does that officially go away?" Emma inquires seriously, yet her tone is still whimsical.

"I'm not sure entirely sure. I assume he will still rebel against our wishes in college and soon we will fight over his future girlfriends or maybe wife. And I know he will give us a hard time when we offer him advice on his own children, so maybe never?"

"Real nice, Regina," she deadpans before we both share a soft chuckle. "Oh god, I'm not ready for him to grow up."

"Me neither, dear," I sigh heavily.

XXXXXXXXX 

The rest of our time spent on the patio was mostly light conversation regarding our son and a little mention of her parents and younger brother, Neal. We finished our glasses and decided today was in fact a long day spent in the sun and we were equally exhausted as our son that's been passed out for quite some time now.

Maybe it was just my mind overthinking the entire situation, but trying to prepare for bed seemed awkward and problematic. A few too many accidental run ins when moving through the bathroom to brush our teeth. An extra weight added to the air as we scrubbed our teeth side by side, yet avoided eye contact and the mirror like the plague. We each seemed to be fumbling on our words as we decided who would change first in the bathroom.

Once my head hit the pillow, exhaustion seeped into my bones, but before I succumbed to sleep I thought back to the evening I spent learning more about Emma Swan. My new goal for this trip is to spend every night learning all I can about this corky woman.


	6. Chapter Six

"Good morning Henry," I cheerfully greet my son as his feet sluggishly pad across the hotel floors.

"Morning, kid."

"Good morning moms. A-are you two making breakfast together?"

Emma and I quickly share a knowing look with one another, all too aware that this feels a little domesticated and we have never done anything like this before. Honestly, I was about to make a snide remark about the situation when Emma slipped next to me to help with the bacon while I prepared omelettes, but I decided to hold my tongue instead.

"Yes. Can you set the table?" I delegate, breezing right passed the unfamiliar territory that was about to be observed beneath my son's inquisitive eyes.

"Sure." Henry waltzes right up to us, in search of the drawer containing silverware, before he peeks over my shoulder. "Omelettes?"

"And bacon," Emma adds on, licking her lips for emphasis.

"Nice," he laughs and proceeds with his task.

"So honey, what would you like to do today? I have a few museums picked out if you'd like or maybe just a day at the beach?" I list just before I flip over Henry's omelette.

"About that..." Emma and I both freeze momentarily before we find the courage to turn around and face our son. "While we are here, I want to do things that I've never done before. I want to experience a life that is so different from the world we have at home that I'll never forget."

"Kid, you're going away to college next year, not dying."

"I know that," he mutters, focusing on aligning the utensils properly with the napkin, informing me that there is something bothering him.

"Henry, if you come to school out here then you will have every opportunity to do the things that we never do," I gently explain, sliding his breakfast onto his plate and passing the dish to Emma so she can add a few pieces of bacon.

"I know," he mutters under his breath, avoiding our curious eyes. "Can we just make this week about really living it up? To its fullest potential? Things we never do?"

My eyes crawl toward my partner in raising Henry, seeking her thoughts, but I find a set of stunning green irises staring right back at me. She seems concerned, a little thrown off by our son's request, so she simply shrugs her shoulders waiting for my two cents on the matter.

I offer her a half smile before turning back toward my son. "Of course Henry. It's your graduation trip, whatever you want."

"Great." Emma and I spin back around to finish cooking, but then our son is speaking again. "I want to go to Dodger Stadium."

My fingers slip as I'm just about to crack an egg into a dish, smashing the shell a little too aggressively against the rim, splattering the gooey mess all over.

"Jeez," Emma gasps as she fumbles for a wet paper towel to clean up the mess, but I ignore the egg completely and spin around on my heels.

"Henry, you don't even like baseball," I protest.

"You know what Dodger Stadium is?" Emma muses from behind me.

"Shut up, Swan," I growl before softening my voice for my son. "Henry, you really want to see a baseball game?"

"Yes, there's a game today. I already checked. I've been to museums before when I lived with Emma and Neal even took me the first time I met him. I want to see a real live game. I want to eat a hot dog and buy peanuts and chant along with the crowd."

"Regina, it's a baseball game, you're acting like he said he was getting a tattoo," Emma whispers beside me even though we both know Henry can hear us.

"Over my dead body."

"Mom, I'm not getting a tattoo," Henry flatly replies. "Aren't you the least bit curious what it would be little to attend a game? I think it will be a lot of fun."

"If that's what you want," I agree through a deep breath.

It's not that I don't _want_ to attend, I think it's a little out of my element and truthfully I never thought Henry would be that interested in the idea.

"It is," our son firmly concludes. "Game is at one, they are playing the Cubs," he informs us, slipping into his seat to wolf down his breakfast as always. "I found a train that will take us to the stadium from here. It's more convenient than driving through traffic."

"Sounds great," Emma happily agrees. "I, myself have never been to an actual game."

"Really?" I question, handing Emma her plate with her extra cheesy omelette.

"Yeah," she accepts the plate while clenching a piece of bacon out of the side of her mouth. "I mean, one time Neal and I scaled a building to watch a game at Vaughn Street Park," she shrugs with a giddy grin plastered across her face, "but I've never really been inside a stadium."

"Where the hell is Vaughn Street Park?" Henry practically chokes on his omelette as Emma casually claims the seat beside him.

"It's in Portland, Oregon, where I met your dad. It's a minor league team there, but that didn't matter much to us," she smiles so broad that a prominent dimple presses deep into her cheek, something I haven't seen in a very long time.

"I don't think you ever told me where you met dad."

"Oh," Emma's cheerful disposition quickly fades away into a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry, kid, I think that was a...turning point in my life that I tend to black out."

"I know," he swallows his bite, placing his fork down before he meets his mother's eyes. "I'm eighteen now though and I think I can handle the truth about your relationship with my dad. You don't have to keep sheltering me."

"I-I know," Emma stammers as her gaze quickly drops down to her plate in shame. "We just did stupid stuff back then that I'm not particularly proud of, it's not that I don't think you're mature enough to hear it."

"I won't judge you, I already know you went to prison, pregnant out of marriage, so it can't really get much worse than that, right?" Henry attempts to laugh to help alleviate the shame burning Emma's cheeks.

"I know," she whispers as I slide into my seat quietly beside her, avoiding eye contact so she doesn't assume I'm silently judging her as well.

"What do you want to know?" She questions as her fork pokes at her food and moves it all around her plate.

"So you met in Portland, Oregon? I don't even think I knew you ever lived there," Henry starts off the interrogation rather light for Emma's benefit causing her to sigh in relief.

"Yes, well I was living out on the streets at the time...not...not always literally. Most of the time I would sneak into vacant motel rooms or hideout in train stations, stuff like that," she pauses for a moment, peeking through those thick eyelashes to gauge my reaction, so I offer her a gentle smile, encouraging her to continue for Henry's sake. "Anyways, I decided if I had a car I could at least sleep in there. So, that's when I stole the bug, I failed to notice a sleeping man in the back."

"My dad?"

"Yeah," she breathes heavily as her shoulders relax, "it was your dad and I totally panicked, but I had no idea that he stole the car too."

"So, you stole a stolen car?" I question, somewhat amused by this story.

"That's exactly what I said to Neal."

"See mom, that wasn't so bad and now I feel a little bit closer to you and my dad," Henry shrugs, his eyes never meeting his mother's as he focuses solely on eating.

"Henry, if you ever want to know more, I will tell you anything you want to hear. I'm sorry I've kinda shut down after he passed away."

"I know mom."

The breakfast table falls silent after that, and I can't help but wonder about Neal and Emma. I, myself never inquired about their relationship and I barely even spoke to him when he was around. The only thing I do know about the man, is that he fought tooth and nail for our son alongside Emma and I. Never did he falter, lose hope or become distracted with anything else that was surrounding us. Neal's top priority was Henry and for that, I respect the man.

XXXXXXXXX 

I was beyond grateful that Henry had suggested the train to the baseball game, because the streets were covered, bumper to bumper with traffic this afternoon.

I chose a seat next to the window again, studying the busy streets of cars and the over crowded sidewalks with people scurrying to their destination. Los Angeles is nothing like out quant little town. The only time people ever pick up their leisurely stroll in Storybrooke is when a villain is attacking. The people of Los Angeles seem to constantly be in a rush to their next destination and for once in my life, I'm thankful for the calm of my hometown.

"Is it Ho-Killian?" Henry fumbles on the name, catching my attention and peeling my eyes away from the world zipping passed us just outside.

"What?" Emma questions a little flustered, provoking my eyebrow to suspiciously crawl up my forehead.

"Are you texting Killian?" Henry repeats himself as he leans over into his mother's shoulder to catch a glimpse of her phone, in which she quickly moves the device out of his line of sight.

"No," she mutters, her cheeks instantly sparking a coral tint.

"Then why are you so flushed?" I skeptically interrogate.

"And why won't you let me see your phone?"

"I-uh," nervous green eyes flick down to the phone clutched in a death grip then back up to meet her son's gaze. "I just think that maybe we should be taking more pictures on this trip." She admits, but that doesn't loosen her grip tightening around her phone, causing her fingers to turn pure white. "Honestly kid, I think I only have one picture of us from when you were like ten."

"Oh," Henry deflates for a moment before he pulls out his phone and smirks. "You're right, we need more pictures of us before...well I leave."

Henry quickly holds up his phone and leans against Emma's temple. She sighs in relief and quickly her expression is morphing into a giddy grin, matching our son's as he captures the moment for eternity.

"Make sure you send me that one," Emma smiles before she pulls out her own phone. "Okay, now all three of us."

"Seriously?" I groan, but Emma and Henry are both already leaning into my spot against the window with matching dorky smiles.

Emma angles the phone to her preference while I lean in closer to my son. My lips crack into a broad smile when I notice just how happy these two are displayed upon the screen. Another moment I need to cherish, before my son leaves the nest and I am forced back to Storybrooke where Emma is smiling back at someone else.

_But does she really smile this bright when we are home?_

"That's a good one, I need that one because come to think of it," Henry trails off as they both slide back into their seats. "I-I don't think I have one picture with both of my moms," he sighs and the sound of disappointment in his tone is absolutely soul crushing.

"No worries kid, we will take a bunch on this trip, right Regina?"

"Of course," I happily agree, reaching across my seat to squeeze my son's knee with some added love.

XXXXXXXXX 

"This is insane," Emma mumbles under her breath as we enter the stadium.

"I never truly expected something quite this...large," I utter as my eyes take in the different vendors and the people dressed is blue and white rushing around us in every direction.

"I told you this was going to be awesome," Henry smugly replies before he nudges us toward the direction of our seats. "We should be over here, according to the sign," he states as he glances back down at our tickets once again.

"Hey, should we get t-shirts, so we fit in?" Emma asks just before we pass a small stand near the entryway that leads us back outside again.

"I don't think that's necessary," I wave her off and focus on not being bombarded by the hundreds of people trying to squeeze passed us.

"You must really hate crowds, huh?" Emma notes, most likely from the way my nose is scrunching and I can only assume the pain projecting off my face.

"I was unaware until this trip," I flatly reply, quickly turning to the side so this barbarian passing by doesn't plow me right over.

Out of my peripheral, I catch Emma rolling her eyes at me. "Well, I want a tank top. How about you, Henry?"

"Sure I'll take a shirt. How about you get the shirts and Mom and I will go to the concession stand, the line there seems kinda long," he comments as he stands on his tip toes to peer over the crowd.

"Perfect, I'll meet you there. In case I don't make it before you get up there, I'll take a beer and a hot dog."

"No soft pretzel?" Henry very seriously questions while I dodge a mob of rowdy young men.

"Yeah, you're right. A pretzel, beer and a hot dog," Emma adds to her order through a cheeky smile.

"Perfect. Okay mom, let's go."

I follow my son through the crowd, my shoulders instinctively curling inward with each person we pass so I don't accidentally bump into anyone, even though the rest of the population could care less.

"What are you going to get?" Henry mindlessly questions when we find ourselves at the back of a very long line.

"I'm not very hungry."

"You promised to live it up on this vacation mom, that means indulging in each experience. It's baseball, a classic all American sport that we miss out on because we are always trapped in our small town."

"I understand Henry, I do. This is just out of my element for me." My son sighs, disappointment flittering across his forest green eyes. "I'm trying, though. Do you honestly think I would have jumped on that ride with Emma, eight years ago?" I softly chuckle, winning myself a small smile in return. "Hell, even two years ago, I don't think I would have been able to let my guard down to agree, but I did yesterday."

"I know mom, I'm just trying to capture the most in life with you and mom."

"Henry, why do I always get the feeling that you mean so much more behind your words? Is there something bothering you? Is there something you're holding back from Emma and I?"

Little crinkles around my son's eyes appear as he squints at me and his entire face scrunches in disbelief. Or maybe it's his lame attempt to shrug off the implication. His mouth instantly curls down into a frown while he exaggerates shaking his head and I know. I know my son is lying straight to my face.

"No, mom...it's nothing. Can you please just relax a little bit and enjoy this?" I smile softly at my son and slowly nod along. "You know," he slowly annunciates in a teasing tone, "I remember what you were like when I was really little, like around five. Before curses, before that book, before villains and Emma showed up."

A playfully smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I examine the amusement consuming my son's face. "And what was I like?"

"Playful," my eyes brows skyrocket from his blunt admission. "Funny, gentle, sweet." A pout forms upon my lips, longing for that time when life was just simple between Henry and I. "I remember you smiling and laughing a lot."

"Sssshhhh, Emma might hear," I playfully tease, causing Henry's eyes to roll, yet he still holds a broad smile.

"Hey!" Emma breathes out as she jogs beside us. "Looks like I made it in time. What did I miss?" She asks, tossing Henry's shirt at his face.

"Nothing," I blurt out far too quickly making a spectacle of myself and provoking one of Emma's eye brows to slither up her forehead.

"Oh, I was just reminding her of the times when we would chase each other around the house, sword fighting." Emma's shocked attention quickly turns just in time to catch my cheeks flushing. "Or when we would have dance parties in the kitchen while she cooked. Or how about the time that you built a fort in the living room and it stayed up for days because I would cry every time you threatened to take it down."

"It was weeks actually," I enlighten my son, but the tender memories are shuffling through my mind so quickly that I don't have time to process any emotion except joy.

Those were some of the happiest moments of my long life. Our life, was just Henry and I, no one to fight against, no one to intrude. Just us and I wouldn't trade one single second for a happy ending with a man.

"No wonder you were able to keep up with your dad and grandpa when they started practicing with those wooden swords," Emma muses while she fiddles with something in her hand. My eyes fall to the small gap between us where her hands are twisting a blue t-shirt into knots. "Oh, I got you one too," she nervously mumbles as she untwists the garment.

"That wasn't necessary-"

"Just take it, if you won't wear it then think of it as memorabilia from this trip," she exasperates, shoving the shirt against chest.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Next!"

XXXXXXXXX 

The crowd is roaring to life, despite the scolding sun beating down upon us. Luckily, I was smart enough to bring along my sunglasses, otherwise I wouldn't be able to focus on the men in awfully tight uniforms. I truthfully cannot comprehend how they are dressed in pants in such high temperatures.

Emma ended up buying herself and Henry matching Dodger's hats just to keep the sun out of their eyes. Even though we are all dripping in sweat and most likely burning our flesh to a crisp, Emma and Henry have never looked more elated.

With every ball that cracks against the bat, mother and son are jumping to their feet in hysteria. They are both hollering along as we sit behind third base, chanting for the Dodgers as they round the bases and booing the Cubs when they are near. And their excitement is just too contagious to fight against.

"Bud, Bud light!" A man bellows over the screaming crowd, carrying a tray full of beer in front of his torso.

"Henry, get his attention!" Our son quickly waves his hand in the air as Emma reaches into her back pocket. "Tell him two," she mutters as she counts out her crumpled up money that was shoved into her back pocket. "You want another right?" Emma questions as our son holds up two fingers.

"I'm really not a fan of beer. You're lucky I drank the first one."

"Well you're not allowed to drink wine at a baseball game. You can have wine tonight when we are home."

_Home_?

"Uh-Alright," I whisper as she passes her money to Henry.

My eyes follow the damp money from her sweaty back pocket as it travels from my son's hand to some stranger in front of him. Then that man proceeds to hand the money to a gentleman in front of him then it carries on to a teen girl who glances over her shoulder before handing the money off to the seller. The man carefully places two full cups in the girl's hand and she continues the path back toward us through the same hands again.

"Thanks!" Emma happily cheers to all parties involved.

"Is one for me?" Henry jokes, reaching for the cup closest to him, but Emma is quicker than that and lifts the cool beverage into the air.

"Not while your moms around."

"Emma, I will kill you if feed our son alcohol."

"I'm just teasing," she smiles, handing over the beer she purchased for me. "So, what do you think?" She questions, slowly sipping the amber liquid as she watches me carefully over the plastic rim.

Her long blonde waves are strapped tightly into a ponytail, tumbling out of the back of her royal blue baseball cap. There's a small shadow casting over her face from the visor, but it doesn't hide away the deep crimson beating upon her cheeks from the sweltering heat and yet I still find her mesmerizing, stunningly beautiful.

"I'm actually enjoying myself," I admit, slowly sipping the foam away from my cup so I don't spill.

"I think Henry had the right idea to bring us here, we miss out on so much back in-" her words are effectively drowned out by the uproar of people jumping to their feet and screaming at the top of their lungs.

Emma abruptly turns to investigate the reasoning behind the cheer, but my eyes never leave the side of her face. Intently, I watch as various emotions flicker across her face, from surprise, to curious, to pure excitement. Henry is already on his feet, clapping along with the hyper crowd, when Emma notices why.

"Home run!" She chuckles before her eyes slowly crawl to meet mine again and I'm caught staring like an absolute fool. She hastily wipes her mouth feeling self conscious under my gaze, but little does she know there was never anything there. "What?"

"No, nothing," I shake my head and break apart the spine-prickling eye contact.

"No, what? Why were you staring at me like that?" She questions, leaning a little closer into my personal space and suddenly I'm very aware how we are the only two sitting in this entire stadium.

"I just..." I inhale sharply and search my brain for something to say, without coming clean about my inappropriate thoughts. "How come in eight years, I've never seen you this happy?"

She stills, her hand frozen in front of her face just before she sips her beer and her eyes dart frantically around absolutely nothing in front of her.

"Uh..."

"It's just that," I shift in my seat to offer my undivided attention over the rowdy crowd engulfing us. "I have never seen you so carefree, laidback and genuinely happy before. I have never heard you laugh as hard as you have in the past two days. Why?"

"Why?" She chokes on her own word, still avoiding my eyes.

"Why?"

"Um...I could ask you the same thing?" She quips.

"You could," I concede, "but I know my reasoning. Do you?"

She blinks, baffled by my admission, followed by more rapid fluttering eyelashes as she scrapes her brain for an answer. Her bottom squirms under the pressure so she takes a long sip of her beer to either buy her time or clear her head, but I wait patiently, wondering if she is willing to be honest with me or even herself for that matter.

"I don't know," she blurts out, placing her beer into its cup holder. "Probably because for once in our lives we aren't being attacked and I know here, we can relax. I don't have to keep looking over my shoulder for some monster I was consistently told as a child, didn't exist."

The crowd around us settles down, everyone falling back into their seats. My eyes flick toward our son's for a moment, but he's still invested in the game. I turn my attention back to the flustered blonde and wonder why she seems so defensive all of a sudden?

"What about you? Why are you so chipper?" She sarcastically calls me out, throwing a look of disbelief my way.

"I never experienced a life like this before," I admit, lowering my voice so the strangers around us don't eavesdrop, but also forcing the beautiful woman to lean just a little further into my personal space. "You know what my life was like before the curse and even after. I know everyone has moved past the whole Evil Queen era, but I still feel like that weight is still on my shoulders. I know it's my imagination and I know people have moved on, but I'm still..."

"Self conscious?"

"Yes," I fully admit, swallowing hard because the truth is always a tough pill to swallow. "Here, in this world, I am just me. For once, I can let my guard down."

"I get it, I do, but Regina you have to know that your family doesn't see you like that anymore."

"I know it in my heart, but my mind...well that's another story." Emma nods along, but she's struggling to find any words to come back with so I continue. "Besides, being here with my son and witnessing the joy on his face, while spending quality time with him, well that is the greatest gift of all."

"Yeah," Emma smiles, glancing at our son's rosy cheeks and permanent smile. "I'm so happy we did this for him."

"Hmmm, me too," I conclude, slowly sipping my beverage and watching the two most important people in my life with nothing but adoration.

_A/N: I just want to thank everyone so far for the reviews! It means so much to me. Also, this story will not have a CS baby. _


	7. Chapter Seven

"Are you done?" Henry questions with his full eagerness vibrating from his body like bass from a speaker.

I glance up to find my son squirming with anticipation, his lips slightly twitching to remain silent. I smirk to myself and hum softly as my eyes fall down to the cards descending in numerical order.

"You know honey," I pause for the dramatic effect and slowly slither my fingers toward a certain pile on the table between us. "...you were never good at your poker face when we played this game when you were younger."

"Mom, I don't think we've played this game since I was eight. I don't think a poker face was really something I could comprehend at that age," he flatly replies.

"Hmmm," slowly I place the pile on top of the other pile and hold back my laughter when I hear my son's groan of disappointment. "Still, not your best suit, my prince."

A small chuckle tumbles from my son's lips from the old familiar nickname. Ever since that little boy was first placed into my arms, he was always my little prince and I think somewhere deep inside he still loves hearing that name, of course when we are in private.

"If I remember correctly, you used to leave spaces open so I could win..." his words trail off as his mischievous eyes flick toward mine. "Right?"

"I have no recollection of this," I flippantly reply and set down my last card. "However, none of that matters because right now I just won."

Henry groans deeply as he tosses down his cards. "Of course you did. You always win."

"I thought you just said I used to lose on purpose?"

"When I was small and cute you did."

"You're still cute, my little prince," I tease through a pout as I reach across the small table and grip his pointed chin. My heart instantly swells when my son doesn't shy away, but also smiles so tenderly at me.

"Mom," he pauses for a moment and the way his eyes glisten against the soft glow in the room, whispers the heartache he has been facing as of lately. I slowly release his chin, but gaze right back into those sorrowful eyes so he knows whatever is on his mind, he can trust me. "Y-you're going to be fine, right?"

My heart immediately ceases in my chest from the gentle concern. "Of course Henry," I scrounge up all the love I have for my child to paint the broadest smile across my face to help ease his worry. "Why would you even ask that?"

His long nimble fingers find purpose against a loose strand on his shorts, he's fidgeting because whatever he must have to say, he knows in his heart I don't want to discuss.

"I know-" he abruptly stops, his mouth slamming shut and his eyes cast down to his lap and he sighs, "when I leave, you'll be all alone in the house. At least Emma has Hook, but you'll be alone."

"Henry, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," I laugh lightly to chip away this tangible tension vibrating between us. "You do realize I spent eighteen years alone in that home before you, right?" I smirk in a teasing manner, but my son is not accepting anything I have to offer.

"T-that's not really..."

"Oh god that cold shower felt too good," Emma sighs happily as she struts confidently into the room, completely oblivious of the private conversation she just forced to an end. "By the way I got a really good picture of you guys playing cards. What's the name of that game anyways?"

Henry quickly scrambles off the ground and flops into the recliner as Emma's body crashes recklessly against the couch. "Kings in the corner," our son replies, provoking a sly smirk to slip across Emma's lips.

"Really? I'm surprised you didn't rename it to Queen's in the corner, Regina."

I slowly gather the cards to place them back in their box before settling on the other end of the couch beside Emma. "Again, your humor is not welcomed here," I dryly reply, but she is smiling back at me so brightly, not at all bothered by my tone.

Her usual blonde locks are dripping wet and creating the illusion of an almost black color from her shower. Despite being makeup free her cheeks are still flushed from the golden rays spending most of the day beating down upon her. Where her permanent frown usually is set into place, a giddy grin has now staked its claim, making her appear so much younger than she truly is.

"Looks like you got some color ma," Henry acknowledges from his spot in the recliner that he seems to have adopted as only his since we began staying here.

"Yeah," Emma's bottom lip pokes out as she squirms to inspect the crimson color painted across her shoulders. "Who knew baseball games where the hot spot for a good tan?"

"I told you to apply more sunscreen," I coldly remind her that I did indeed inform her to be more cautious earlier today.

"It's fine," she shrugs and slumps further into the couch, nestling a throw pillow against her lower abdomen. "By tomorrow it will be a nice tan."

"If you insist, but I don't want to hear you whimpering all night because you can't sleep on your sunburn."

"Whatever Regina." Emma rolls her eyes at me, but I see the playful smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, reminding me that she enjoys arguing with me. Even if she will never vocalize those true feelings.

"So, did you two have fun?" Henry curiously inquires as he peeks over his shoulder to gauge our reactions.

"I can honestly say I did enjoy myself."

"Yeah kid, I'm glad you suggested it. What's on your agenda for tomorrow?" Emma smirks with a twinkle of excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"I don't know. Mom, do we have any colleges to visit tomorrow?"

"Yes, we have two in the morning, but we should be back by noon so we will still have most of the day. What did you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe just a lazy day at the beach. We were kinda exhausted the last time we went down there so I didn't get a chance to really enjoy it."

"Sounds perfect, honey," I agree with a warm smile taking over my face.

It's so wonderful to finally see my son so at easy in this world. For once, he's not worried about his mothers fighting for their lives against some ridiculous monster or the pressure of being the author weighing down on his shoulders. In this moment, I just see my son, my baby boy that would cuddle upon my chest as a toddler and would giggle whenever I would change my voices when I would read him bedtime stories. There's no worry pinching between his eyebrows or tension in shoulders and for a moment I wish we could stay here, hidden from our world forever.

"We should buy some inner tubes and ride the waves," Emma enthusiastically suggests.

"That'll be a lot of fun. We can stop at a store on our way home from the tours."

"Are you going to have an open mind about tomorrow?" I press on the subject I know my son has been deliberately avoiding.

Emma stiffens beside me, her eyes frantically bouncing between Henry and I as we wait in a tangible tension for our son to respond. Henry rolls his eyes away from our direction and slumps further into his recliner to avoid my determined expression. I just want to know what is going on in that head of his.

"Yeah mom, I'll have an open mind," he grumbles under his breath, tossing all his credibility out the window by his poor attitude.

"For some strange reason...I don't believe you."

"Mom, please stop. I said I'll look at all the colleges you picked out. You know this is a very important move in my life and I need to know that it's one hundred percent what I want. I'm not going to choose something if it doesn't feel right," he snaps, never once looking back toward Emma and I.

"Henry, please, if something is bothering you, just tell us," I plead with my son as I scoot toward the edge of the couch in hopes he will turn around to meet my gaze.

Emma quickly follows my lead and straightens her posture, tossing the pillow to the side so she can rest her elbows upon her knees. "Yeah, if there's something bothering you, tell us. You know we won't judge and we are always here to help you."

"It's nothing you two can help with," he hastily rejects our offer and leaps to his feet, startling Emma and I by his sudden action. "Please, just stop bugging me about my future and colleges. I'm trying to figure out what's best for me and what _I_ want out of life and I can't do that with you two constantly hovering over me," he bellows, creating a searing pain to jab right through my heart from the volume of his voice.

Our son hardly ever yells back at us anymore. He's usually the calm one in most frantic situations, but now, I'm finding memories of our rocky past bubbling up to the surface. A time when Henry hated me and wanted nothing to do with the Evil Queen and it's breaking my heart all over again.

"Listen, we are just trying to help and be supportive," Emma suddenly blurts out after a moment too long of silence and jumps to her feet to match our son's height. "We never had parents who supported our decisions when we were your age so we are trying to make sure that you know we are in your corner."

"Honey, we just want to help you sort out what's going on in your mind and help you make the best decision for you. Despite what you maybe feeling in this moment, we aren't trying to persuade you one way or another, we are just trying to help," I softly explain, but there's a pain in my son's eye that tells me, it's not about Emma and I helping him or standing behind him, but instead about what he's keeping from us.

"I'm sorry moms, but this is something I need to do on my own." His shoulders slump in defeat as he releases a ragged breath of hopelessness. "I'm just gonna call it a night."

"No, Henry, come on-" Emma and I both begin to stammer, but he's already walking toward his room.

"No, it's fine. We got a big day tomorrow anyways and we spent the whole day in the sun. I'm beat. Good night moms," he says through a half smile that is clearly forced for our benefit then retires to his room, closing the door behind him.

"Wow, night two that he's turning in early," Emma exasperates as she tumbles back down onto the sofa. "He must really be stressed about all of this."

I'm already shaking my head at the notion. "No, he's hiding something from us. I think he already made up his mind about his future and he's terrified to tell us."

"You think?" Emma naively questions, but then her face falls as realization washes over her. "Oh god, he's leaving us isn't he?"

I sigh heavily, feeling that acknowledgment beat down against my chest and crack my heart into tiny little insignificant pieces. The one person who I love more than anything in this world and made me who I am today, is leaving and hope for a better tomorrow is looking bleak from where I am standing. Standing, all alone with nobody to share my life with. We will travel back to Storybrooke and Henry will begin his life and Emma will go home to her husband and where does that leave me?

_In a very lonely mansion with no one to share my life with._

"I believe he is leaving us," I mutter mostly to myself and sink further into this couch, somewhat wishing the damn thing would just swallow me whole and kidnap me from existence. "But the question is where?"

"I'm not ready for him to leave us," Emma pouts, her hand blindly reaching for the pillow once again to cuddle against her lower abdomen.

"Well at least you have another opportunity. I am not so fortunate," I angrily snip at the woman sulking like a child beside me.

"What? What are you talking about, Regina?"

Emma quickly straightens her posture, wiping the pout away from her lips and replacing it with a scowling frown. Her right leg slides onto the couch so she can pivot her body to face me, offering her undivided attention for a quarrel I know is to begin.

"Henry's all grown up now and he's about to leave home, that leaves my house very empty, but you-"

"Me, what?" She cuts me off abruptly, the sudden burning flame of anger quickly rising to the surface.

"You get to go home to your one handed pirate and continue your plans for another child," I spit in disgust and hate myself for sounding so over jealous in this moment.

So, I swallow hard to bite back my raging temper, but there's a spark flickering in Emma's golden flecks and I know I just pushed some button I didn't even know exists.

"Where the hell did you hear that from?" Emma growls so low that I swear the ground beneath us quakes.

"What? Your plans for a pirate baby?" I innocently question to appear unaffected, but instead my tone comes off smug and again I'm painting the illusion of some jealous ex.

_But she was never mine..._

"Yes, who the hell told you that Killian and I are trying to have a baby?"

"Oh come now Sheriff Swan, please use your detective skills that I pay you for and stop playing such a fool," I snap.

"My mother? Did she tell you we were trying?"

"Your mother never did know when to keep that big trap of hers shut. Besides Swan, it doesn't take a genius to draw up that conclusion, most couples do try to conceive after marital vows," I sarcastically retort, watching as Emma's sun kissed cheeks burn an even darker shade of red.

"Well maybe people shouldn't jump to conclusions. My life is mine and I don't need the entire town sticking their noses in my business, gushing over a baby that doesn't even exist," she all but yells on the top of her lungs before she breathes out a harsh growl, whipping the pillow from her lap.

"The perks of living in a small town populated by fairytales characters. One would assume you are accustomed to that behavior by now."

"No, Regina, I'm not!" She hollers, jumping to her feet once again before she neurotically begins pacing the living room floor. "I'm a private person, I-I don't like sharing the ins and outs of my life."

"I know, but Emma, that's not how our town works or your mother for that matter. Why are you so upset? How could you not assume people would expect you to have a baby after your wedding? It's been almost a year now."

The sheriff's jaw clenches painfully tight as she paces, her fists balling up beside her as who knows what runs rampant through her mind right now.

"I didn't think my life was that important to be discussing behind my back," she quickly replies with venom dripping from each word and burning the floorboards below.

"You act like it was some malicious act that we are plotting against you," I rebuttal with a little more scolding in my voice, because I'm quickly losing my patience for her childish tantrum.

"It's my life!" She screams, whipping around to shoot daggers my way through her raging eyes.

The living room lights flicker for a split second, throwing Emma off guard, but I simply roll my eyes at the woman and lean forward on the edge of the couch.

"Calm down," I strictly order and point to the seat that she erratically left vacant.

"I don't want to sit, Regina. I'm pissed off."

"Really? I hadn't noticed. Stop acting like a spoiled brat and take a seat. Clearly this isn't about people assuming you will conceive after a wedding. You're just about as bad as hiding your feelings as our son." Emma glares at me through the corners of her eyes, but I just point to the cushion again. "Now, sit."

She huffs and puffs her protest, but the stubborn blonde does obey and falls into her seat with added weight. Seconds tick by in deafening silence, but I wait patiently, allowing her to stew in her emotions until she's ready to come clean.

"I don't want to talk about this Regina," she mumbles under her breath, pulling that protective pillow over her raging body once again.

"I thought this is what we do? We yell, scream, project all our anger onto one another until we break down and confess what's truly bothering us," I calmly claim with the faintest of a smug smirk. Emma rolls her eyes at me, just as she always does and sighs. "Are you having doubts about the former pirate's parenting skills?"

"What?" Her freckled nose scrunches in confusion as her eyes finally peek up through her lashes to meet mine.

"Are you concerned how he will ever change a diaper with a sharp hook attached to his wrist?" I mock for the hell of it, because it's no secret I despise the man.

"Seriously, Regina? You don't think he would be a good father?" Gone is the pulsating anger and there's nothing left in it's awake except a vulnerable and uncertain woman.

"I-" I swallow hard, because as much as I want to shake her and tell her to choose me instead because I already earned that title as her coparent, I just know I can't break apart her marriage and ruin _another_ happy ending. "Do you think Hook will make a good father?" I question, turning the spotlight away from me and shining it down upon her confused and tortured face.

"It doesn't even matter, that's not what this is about," she exhales like the air vanquishing from her body is tearing apart her insides along the way. Her head falls back with a thump against the back of the couch and her eyes quickly snap shut.

"Then what is it about, Emma?"

"I-I really don't want to discuss this right now. It's between Killian and I and I really don't need to drag you or Henry into it," she weakly replies, the hurt in her voice so piercing that I feel myself flinch from her words alone.

"Emma, you know you can talk to me about-"

"Let's go to bed Regina, we have a big day tomorrow and we need to focus on Henry," she mutters absolutely demolished from whatever is beating her up inside.

"Emma-"

"Please, drop it," she exasperates as she stands from the couch and shuffles toward our shared bedroom. I ponder, chewing on the inside of my lip as I try to come up with a reasonable explanation for Emma's frantic behavior. "Are you coming?" Her soft voices snaps me back to reality and I discover her leaning against the doorframe waiting for me.

"Of course."

I quietly turn off the lights and follow Emma's reddening skin back into our room. She prepared for bed when she showered so the troublesome blonde crawls immediately between her sheets and sighs from the comfort. Which reminds me, that's another topic of conversation she clammed up about when I tried to discuss her mattress at home.

I sigh, before turning off the lights, knowing there's something she's keeping from me just like our son. Quietly, I climb into my bed and turn away from the woman, because I can't stand to see that frown etched across her face even when she's fast asleep. So, in my peace and solitude I wrack my brain for reasons as to why Emma was so upset about the mention of a baby. That's when it hits me like a ton of bricks, piling down on my gut because I know that pain all too well.

_She must not be able to conceive again_.


	8. Chapter Eight

The warm sun is beating down on my back, decorating my skin with a new pink hue as I lay on my stomach on an extra fluffy towel. I'm not certain how long we've been out on the beach this afternoon, but my eyelids are growing heavy and my mind is dancing on the edge of dreamland and reality.

"Hey."

"Hey," I groan right back, my voice hoarse from the lack of water and from teetering on the verge of sleep.

"So are we good?" Emma quickly rushes her sentence out into one long word.

"Just fine," I mumble, never once opening my eyes to meet her worrisome gaze that I know is beating in her stunning green eyes.

The waves slowly roll to shore in a rhythmic song that helps wash away the tension forming in my shoulders. Off in the distance, I can hear cheerful giggles from children laughing and playing in the sand while the seagulls swarm above. Time ticks by and I'm so thankful that Emma is choosing not to press the issue from last night, even though she was the one who shut me out.

"It just doesn't feel like you're fine," Emma abruptly blurts out, producing a heavy sigh to escape from my lips.

"Why does it matter what I feel? You made it very clear last night, Miss Swan, that you did not want to discuss whatever it is that you are keeping bottled up inside," I quip without ever opening my eyes.

"Miss Swan, again? Okay, obviously you're pissed," she mutters under her breath, but she must be very close because I can hear every word, every breath pouring from those soft pink lips.

"I'm not pissed Emma, but if you continue disturbing my rest then yes, you will have successfully pissed me off," I growl so low that I can feel my own vibrations against the sand.

She falls silent yet again and I sigh, knowing I can rest again. Henry has found himself enveloped in a conversation between a young girl and boy who seem to be around his age. When I first saw them speaking about an hour ago, I couldn't tell if the strangers were a couple or brother in sister, but either way, I'm happy that he has found some people his own age to speak with for the day. I'm sure he's growing bored of his two mothers always hovering around.

I squirm against the plush towel and admire the way the sun is kissing my skin, relaxing every tense muscle in my body. My mind slowly starts to slip away again, dragging through the recent memories we have created on this trip, causing my eyelids to grow heavier.

"I just don't want you to be mad at me on this trip, we should be enjoying our time for Henry's sake," Emma weakly whines, popping my bubble of endless dreams and dragging me helplessly back to reality.

I groan, loudly, to clarify she has officially pissed me off and slam my palms against the towel, slowly pushing myself up until I rest on my elbows. My head quickly snaps in her direction, causing a few strands to tumble out from my sloppy bun piled high upon my head.

"What do you want from me, Emma? What? I'm trying to relax and enjoy the sun. Henry's off making friends and enjoying the ocean so we don't need to put up a front right now for him." Her mouth pops open to argue back, but I push on, ignoring her completely. "I thought we were friends now and could count on one another to discuss freely what's truly bothering us? But clearly I am very wrong if you couldn't even talk to me last night without lashing out and acting like a petulant child."

"It's not like that-"

"Then what is it, Emma? Because right now you are really trying my patience. You say you don't want to discuss it, but you refuse to drop the matter. So, what Emma?"

I snap at my friend as my emotions and temper get the best of me, yet again. Emma's nostrils flare out of habit from her anger that always seems to be right below the surface too, she just hides it so much better than I ever could. I sigh heavily when I notice the torment painfully obstructing her beautiful face.

"Please Emma, just talk to me," I softly whisper this time to coax her into opening up, but her eyes are cast down toward the rolling waves, avoiding mine completely. So, tentatively I reach out into the small gap between us and rest my hand on top of hers. "Emma, are you struggling to conceive again?"

The words hardly make it passed my lips because the pain of her raising a child with someone else, breaks my heart every time I am forced to face the harsh reality. Not to mention, the heartache and pain of not being able to conceive. I know that I have only myself to blame for drinking that stupid potion, but that doesn't mean the pain from not bearing a child doesn't exist.

Slowly, her head falls to her shoulder so she can offer me her full attention. A small smile deepens in the corner of her mouth and it's that adorable Emma Swan, half smile-half frown that always melts my heart like gooey wax beneath a flame.

"No, Regina," she sighs and I swear the weight is lifting from her chest, allowing her a better chance at her next breath, "it's not that. We just aren't actively trying right now. That's all."

"What's that suppose-"

"Look, I'm sorry for how I acted last night. I-I guess I'm just going through some things right now and I'm trying to sort them out in my head and I just don't know..." she takes a deep breath as though the words are stealing every last bit of breath from her lungs.

"I never had many friends, you and your mother seem to be the first to weasel your way in to claim the title," I flash her a sideway glance that earns me a warm smile in return. "From what your mother has repeatedly beaten into my head, time and time again, this is what friendship is for. Talking, expressing our feelings to help sort them out so we don't bottle up this anger and allow the darkness to fester and consume us."

"I know Regina, but even to this day, I'm having such a hard time opening up."

"I can sympathize with that. I'm not the best at talking through emotions without sarcasm, unless it's with Henry."

"You know, I still see Archie," she murmurs as though the words needed to be said, but she couldn't stand the thought of one person ever hearing them.

"That's alright. Sometimes I find myself lingering outside his door."

Gradually, I lay back down against my towel, knowing that she will most likely continue if I'm not honing in on everything she's saying or examining every tilt or flicker of expression flashing upon her face. Emma's most likely to speak when she's busy distracting herself or when she thinks someone isn't paying too much attention to her.

"I think sometimes..." and just like that the words flick out like the light that used to shine so bright in her eyes. I count the waves as I listen to them wash up shore and plead in my mind for her to continue. Minute after minute rolls by before she finally whispers, "I never truly gave my life outside of villains and savior a thought."

"What do you mean?"

"I was so wrapped up in defeating villains and protecting my family that I never once sat back and enjoyed the moments in between. My dad told me one time, that it's all about the little moments in life and as much as I wanted to live by those words, I never did."

"Well that's what this time is for now," I happily conclude to help break away the tension radiating off every inch of her skin right now. I peek out of the corner of my eye, but the sun is too blinding to study her features. "Isn't that why you want to take pictures now?"

"Yes," she swallows thickly and finally tumbles down upon her towel beside me. "But it's too late now."

"It's not too late, Emma. You've taught me on numerous occasions that it's never too late."

"No Regina, Henry's going off to college now and it's too late. Our lives are finally slowing down at home and I'm starting to see the big picture. I'm not worrying myself into a frenzy about my future and rushing into things because I'm scared that there's no tomorrow for me. And now things are slowly coming into view and it's too late."

"Emma stop-"

She abruptly sits back up, and in a haste of long limbs and nervous energy, curling her legs into a pretzel and scoots closer onto the edge of my towel. I peer back up at her through sleepy eyes, finally appreciating the view as she blocks the sun from blinding my corneas.

Her high cheekbones are flushed a beautiful crimson contrasting against her delicate porcelain skin in the most delicious way and my heart skips a beat. My inner Evil Queen is crawling to the surface, dragging up old memories of my lonely days spent in my bed chambers with some poor schmuck that enjoyed drowning in my rough side. I always did love the way a burning scarlet hue would clash against a pale complexion.

"Regina?"

I blink and blink again, finding Emma's inquisitive eyes watching me curiously. "Hmmm?" I hum softly as a scorching heat disperses violently through my veins, luckily she will never notice from a day spent under the sun.

"I know you might not understand this analogy, but bear with me," she continues even when my face contorts into perplexed bewilderment. "Lately, I feel like I'm on this cheap carnival ride that keeps spinning and spinning and I'm trying to catch just a glimpse of life whipping by, but I can't make a single thing out. And it feels like it's never ending and I'm so sick to my stomach that I almost welcome the idea of death just to stop the whirlwind around me."

My heart stops and my mouth pops open to say what, I haven't a clue, but I'm aching to reach out and comfort her. I just...I don't know how because that isn't who we are.

"But then finally the ride stops and I'm so relieved that I am stumbling off the ride anxious for what's to come, grasping onto _anything_ to keep me steady and I'm so excited for the spinning to finally stop. Except the world is still moving around me and I find myself realizing that something just isn't right. The world is still off and it's tilted on its axis and I still have this sick sinking feeling in my gut and..." and her words die off again and we are both stuck in this palpable tension, squeezed inside our private bubble.

She's staring hard at her toes burying deep into the sand while I am fixated on her beautiful face glowing by the shining sun behind her, but she doesn't notice, that to me, she burns brighter than a thousand of those suns. And it kills me that she'll never know.

"Emma," I timidly croak out, unsure where I am allowed to step because one wrong move I am sending her into a downward spiral that makes her clam up again. "Are you unsure of your place in this world if you aren't fighting villains?" She's silent, too silent. "Emma, there was once a time in my life where I was just as confused. When Tinkerbell brought me to Robin and said he could be my happy ending, I panicked, as you know. I thought I would lose myself in this world and who would I be without my anger, my revenge?"

Glistening green eyes finally wander up to meet my gaze and when we lock eyes, I smile to help ease her pain.

"My anger and my revenge kept me grounded and it made me who I was. So, how could I let all of that go and not be petrified of loosing myself and floating away?"

"But you did let all of that go," she softly argues, provoking an even brighter smile to stretch further into my cheeks.

"I did. For my son. Henry gave me the best gift ever, he offered me a purpose in life."

"But he's all grown up and I can't be a mother to him anymore, it's too late."

I quickly scramble to lean up on my elbows and pin this woman with a hard glare. "First of all Emma, you _are_ Henry's mother. You've been his mother for the past eight years and that will never change. You are his mother for life." She offers me a small smile that's absolutely depressing because I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. "Now, we were just talking about you having another baby, why are you so hesitant to even discuss the topic if you want to be a mother so desperately to Henry?"

"Regina, please-"

"No Emma, stop lying to yourself, tell me what you are so afraid of," I plead with every ounce of my being.

"I-I'm..." her eyes well up with tears and all too quickly she's casting her gaze to the ground again. It's so obvious that she's debating with herself and fighting with nobody but herself to keep these secrets hidden away from the world. "I'm not sure I can be a mother," she breathes out and it's a blatant lie straight to my face. "It was easy stepping in with Henry, he was ten. He was walking, talking, pretty much able to take care of himself. You did the hard part. I'm not sure if I can raise a baby."

"Emma, please," I roll my eyes at the lie she is continuing to tell. "We both know you are more than capable."

"Maybe," she shrugs and slowly lays back down upon her towel. I watch out of the corner of my eye how rigid her body has become and I know she's lying and I know something is eating away at her. "Anyways, we need pictures at the beach," she nonchalantly states while reaching for her phone.

"Absolutely not. I am not allowing any proof or blackmail for that matter in your possession," I coldly reject the idea, but then her warm skin is pressing up against mine and slamming my mouth shut.

"Oh come on Regina, we promised lots of pictures for Henry. He said himself, he doesn't have any of us together," she whines her protest as she lays down upon her stomach and squeezes her tiny frame onto my towel, shoving me aside.

"Emma!" I bark out as she continues to press her arms and legs against mine.

"Scoot over and turn over so you're on your stomach like me," she bosses me around as she holds out her phone to capture the moment.

I groan my protest, but then she's reminding me once again that it's for Henry and of course I will happily oblige if my son is involved. I quickly flip over on my stomach and catch a glimpse of myself in the small screen.

"Ugh, we look atrocious," I grumble, hastily snatching up my sunglasses and placing them over my makeup free eyes. I'll be damned if I allow this woman to possess evidence of me without my makeup on.

"We do not," Emma protests as her head leans a smidge closer against mine and if I'm not mistaken she's a few strands short from connecting our temples together. "Smile," she happily instructs through a broad grin, but I simply purse my lips out as she captures the moment.

"Now, may I drift off to sleep or are you going to annoy me some more?"

This adorable corky woman nudges her body closer to mine as she rolls her eyes at me. She takes a moment, still over staying her welcome upon my towel, and examines the picture she took.

"It's a good one," she comments, her thumb absentmindedly running over our faces. "The sky looks so blue, we don't even need a filter."

"Filter or not, I don't care. Just get off my towel," I grumpily reply because I cannot stand another minute of her velvety smooth skin brushed up against mine or I will make her mine right here in the sand.

"Alright, Alright. I'm moving."

"Thank you."

"Take a nap crab ass, I'm going to hang out with Henry."

"Thank you for your permission," I snark right back and readjust myself so I'm laying on my back, facing the glorious sun and that's exactly how I fall asleep.

XXXXXXXXX 

A dark shadow casts over the bright sun above, forcing my sleepy eyes to spring to life. My hand quickly moves over my eyebrows to shield any left over rays streaming down from the sky above, but a dripping wet Emma is blocking most of the light.

"Emma?"

"Wake up, Henry wants to show you something?"

"How long was I asleep for?" I question through a mouth that feels as though I swallowed this entire beach during my nap.

Emma kneels down in front of me and holds out a cold bottle of water, leaking with condensation. "Only an hour," she smiles back at me as I scramble to sit upright and quickly fumble for the water.

As I slowly consume the icy waters that soothe my desert of a mouth, I examine Emma's appearance. Her blonde locks are still piled high on top of her head in a messy bun that's losing strands all over the place, she even has little wisps of fly always near her temple that make her seem so much younger.

Little beads of ocean water cling to her sun kissed skin, that's burning red now from the hours spent under the bright rays. Her little white bikini is drenched in salty liquid, dripping excess water all over my towel, but I don't mind one bit. My greedy eyes are drinking in her beauty while I continue to quench my thirst with the bottle she offered.

We are always covered up by many layers back home in Storybrooke and this is the first time I'm granted permission to stare at her athletically toned body. I never truly considered how skinny she actually is because usually she's hidden away by big sweaters and that tacky red leather jacket. Now, my eyes are wandering, inspecting the way her collarbone and sternum protrude through her porcelain flesh and my tongue itches to run over every bump and dip her chest has on display.

My eyes drift a little lower, admiring every abdominal muscle tightly toned to perfection, hiding away the truth that she once carried our son there. I swallow thickly, knowing I'm blatantly staring at this point, but I can't stop my eyes from traveling toward her arms. I remember appreciating them when we were in Neverland, but back then I pushed all my feelings for her aside so I didn't linger upon them as much as I am able to now.

"Wow, you must be dehydrated," Emma comments, shredding through my very intimate thoughts.

"You have no idea," I mumble into my water bottle and hold back the whimper threatening to sell me out.

"Well come on, Henry wants to show you."

"Show me, what?" I press for more information as she stands up before me and brushes some sand away from her hands and knees.

"Just come on. Oh and don't freak out," she adds on, generating a scowl to form around my mouth.

"Well now you just completely guaranteed a '_freak out'_ on my part," I dryly respond, but still I stand tall and stretch out my stiff limbs.

I try to avoid her eyes, but out of the corner of my eye, I do notice those sparkling green irises drifting down slowly, like a feather in a gentle breeze, down to my stomach where they linger for just a moment. A scorching hot flush rushes violently through my veins and tinges my cheeks crimson. Even though I know I maintain a healthy lifestyle, I still feel self conscious and completely exposed under her scrutiny.

A very harsh and loud gulp echoes between us and for a moment, I have no idea which of us created that uncomfortable sound. All too quickly, Emma is averting her eyes and clearing her throat and I know damn well she was the one who gulped back her desires.

"Henry?" I meekly vocalize to break through this godawful moment.

"Yeah," her voice cracks like some poor boy struggling through puberty, but I pretend I don't notice for both of our sakes.

Emma leads the way down to the shore line, my eyes fixated on our feet sinking and sliding into the powdery sand below. Little particles pop up beneath her feet with each step and rain down on my feet behind her. I smile to myself as I step in one of her prints and notice how my foot is smaller than hers. My heart feels so light in this moment and for just a brief second, I feel my younger, free-spirited self, fluttering to the surface.

It's been far too long since I've felt this free to be myself and immediately I think of my young love with Daniel. He always adored my playful, giddy side, that's why he was always so quick to forgive when I would lash out at him in front of my mother. He knew deep down that wasn't who I truly am on the inside. As time went on, I set that fake facade into place and masked who I really am to protect my heart from the cruel world. Only Henry has seen my true colors, but I'm starting to feel the armor slipping away on this trip and maybe Emma will finally see the real me.

"Look," I blink away my thoughts and follow Emma's out stretched arm toward the blue waters. "See him?"

"Is-is he..."

"On the blue and white wave-runner out there," a giddy chuckle escapes the woman beside me, so I fight away my panic that's screaming bloody murder in my head. Slowly, Emma takes a chance and turns to face me. "He's fine. I promise. I've been riding with him for the past half hour and he's been really safe."

"If you say," I murmur and try really hard not to lash out irrationally as too many terrifying thoughts come to mind.

"He's wearing a life jacket, he's safe. I swear."

"I know," I swallow down all my trepidation, "I trust you." She smiles so softly in return that I actually do feel my apprehension slowly fade away.

"Do you want to try? We rented it for the hour. I can wave him in and you can go for a quick ride."

"Oh-uh-no I don't think that's necessary," I stammer as too many fears prickle up my spine.

"Come on, just a quick ride. I swear you'll love it. Think of it like riding a horse, but on a wave-runner...on water."

"Absolutely not, its bad enough you forced me on that stupid ride of doom." My heart rate suddenly increases just thinking about that awful contraption.

Emma waves her hand dramatically in the air, grasping our son's full attention. He waves back and then turns the wave-runner around, heading slowly toward the shore. Emma smirks and jogs off in the direction of our stuff.

"Where are you going?" I bellow over the crashing waves and the happy chatter around the beach.

I watch as she digs around in our beach bag and then pops right back up, grinning like an idiot the whole way back. "Pictures," she pants, slowing down beside me. Her enthusiasm is contagious, I must say, while I watch her snap a few pictures of our son riding up to shore.

"Mom, this is great! Are you gonna try?" He laughs, swiping a hand down his face to brush away the water that's been spraying him during his journey.

"I-I don't think so-"

"Come on Mom, we talked about this. Living life to the fullest," he gasps, trying desperately to catch his breath from the exhilaration rippling through his bloodstream.

"Do you want me to ride on back with you?" Emma kindly offers, while I squirm under two sets of curious green eyes.

"I don't think-"

"Here," Henry holds up his life jacket, the water still pouring off the damn thing and I wonder if he ended up tossed into the ocean at some point. "Put this on," he instructs, already slipping one end over my arm without my consent.

"I'll drive us out there and then I'll teach you how to drive and then I'll ride on back," Emma states with conviction while she begins slipping on another life jacket that must have been hers from earlier.

"No, I really don't think this is my style-"

"Relax, it'll be fun," Henry merrily replies, completely ignoring my weak claims of protest. My son quickly buckles the life jacket in three spots before tugging the straps tighter, forcing me to stumble in the sand. "Good, nice and tight," he smiles fully proud of himself while I scowl in return.

"Okay, smile!" Emma sing songs, provoking Henry to toss his arm around my shoulder and grin from ear to ear.

I melt at this wide toothy grin my son is sporting, reminding me so much of when he was a little toddler. I sigh, and wrap my arm around his waist and completely surrender. I can ride this stupid machine if it will put a smile this big on my son's face. I'll make whatever memories he wants, in hopes to erase the painful ones from when he was ten.

"Okay, give me that," Henry laughs, stealing the phone away from his blonde mother and lightly shoving me toward the wave-runner.

I watch with trembling fingers and an erratic heart as Emma effortlessly slides onto the water craft. She starts the engine again and slowly maneuvers the bulky object off the shoreline and into the water like she's been driving these things for years.

"Go on Mom!" Henry encourages my feet to shuffle forward and I peek over my shoulder to find my son holding up the phone ready to take another damn picture.

_Maybe I can accidentally fireball that phone when we go home_.

"Hop on," Emma casually instructs over her shoulder as she waits patiently, the wave-runner slightly bobbing from left to right from the waves. I gulp down all my irrational fears and carefully climb on behind Emma. "You can hold on to the bar beneath your seat or you can hang on around my waist. Whatever you feel comfortable with," she calmly explains.

"The bar will be just fine," I coldly reply to keep up my mask of tranquility even though I am a tightly wound ball of nerves on the inside.

"Okay," she drags out the tiny word as I reach behind me for said bar. My fingers curl into a death grip around the metal rod and I take one last deep breath. "Ready?"

I nod on instinct, but then I roll my eyes at myself knowing she cannot see me. "Yes."

"Hold on," she practically laughs as she squeezes the lever near the handle bar and we take off.

My body instantly slides back on the wet seat from the force and before I even notice what I'm doing, my arms move to their own accord and wrap tightly around her waist. I'm fairly confident I hear her smug chuckle, but I'm too lost in the moment to even find a bitchy comeback somewhere in my brain.

We bounce dramatically with each wave we crash into and my grip tightens even more around her tiny frame. I bite my tongue to keep from sounding like a whiny baby and endure every rough patch Emma takes on with full force. The salty water is spraying viciously in my face and stinging my cheeks and I am forced to squeeze my eyes shut.

_I am definitely going to murder this woman when we get home._

Thankfully, we begin to slow down our pace and I'm able to actually open my eyes and wipe away the cool water clinging to my face.

"Okay, I'm going to show you how to drive. It's really simple," Emma says over the roaring engine as we come to a complete stop, idling along the calm motion of the ocean in the middle of the sea.

"Emma, what are you doing?" I blurt out the moment she stands up.

"We are switching positions. I'm going to move to the right and you slide forward, then I'll climb behind you," she gently explains, easing some of the tension from my shoulders. So, I quickly follow her directions and she carefully slides behind me. "Okay, this is the gas, just give it a little with your thumb and we will take off," she laughs lightly in my ear and for a split second I'm drowning in her warm breath coating the shell of my ear and sending chills to trickle down my back.

"And the brake?" I quickly blurt out because I need a distraction from her weight pressing into my back as she grips the handle bars and explains the details of this contraption.

"Right here, but if you need to slow down just ease up on the gas, you'll be surprised how quickly she'll stop by releasing the gas."

"She?" I question, slightly amused and peeking over my shoulder to inspect the blush that's sure to come.

"Uh, yeah. All motorized vehicles are shes," she flippantly replies while I just smirk in return. "Anyways, that's pretty much it. Just go slow until you get a feel for her and don't take the turns to sharp."

"And you trust me to drive this, Miss Swan?" I teasingly ask, peering over my shoulder again to gauge her reaction.

"I trust you with my life every time we fight against villains, I think you got this," she chuckles and nods for me to begin.

My heart is swooning like some love sick teenager, knowing she trusts me with her life and that right there is all the ego boost I need to confidently man handle this thing. I smirk to myself and press down on the little lever, sending us coasting over the ripples of the ocean.

Her warmth disappears for a moment, but then she's leaning into my back again and I can feel her presence lingering near my ear.

"See, you got this!" She encourages over the crashing waves and the rumble of the lively engine. I simply nod in return and continue on a straight path for a little while before she's shouting again. "Maybe you should try turning?" I nod again, easing up on the gas and slowly turning this heavy machine below us.

We both lean into the turn and my grip automatically tightens around the handles. I start to become more acquainted with the feel of the waves and I must say it's much easier to drive than ride on the back. I decide to turn again and then once more so I can jump over the small ripple I made in the process.

With the wind biting against my face and this feeling of soaring freedom, I do have to admit, but only to myself, that this does feel like when I would take off running on the back of Rocinante without a saddle. My smile stretches further into my damp cheeks and I push a little harder on the accelerator. I turn the wave-runner quickly to the right and then snap it back to the left, almost chuckling at the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"Holy shit!" The words fade away before I hear a thunderous crash against the ocean.

My finger quickly releases the lever, halting the waver-runner as I peek over my shoulder and sure enough, Emma is gone. My heart pounds viciously as my eyes dart across the open sea for a mess of blonde locks. Luckily, she pops right up, gasping for air and wiping the water away from her face.

I quickly spin back around in my seat and slowly drive back to where she is bobbing up and down against the rippling waters.

"Em-I'm-so-"

"You did that on purpose," she growls as I slow down and kill the engine.

"I did not," I hastily defend.

"For some strange reason I don't believe you," she huffs as her long, strong arms pull her back up onto the wave-runner. I can't stop myself as I admire the way her biceps clench deliciously from strain and the little water droplets run wildly, sculpting the muscles and glistening against the warm sun. "You did, didn't you?" She accuses again, catching my attention.

"I did not," I scoff, desperately trying to hide the way I'm watching her run her fingers through her hair and wiping away the salty liquid.

"I forgot how awful the ocean tastes," she spits in disgust.

"I'm sorry. Really Emma that was an accident."

"I know," she sighs, a slight shiver running through her body, creating goosebumps to spread across her reddening skin.

"Let's go back and maybe this time hang on," I scold.

"I was," she shrieks while I turn around and start the engine again. "But maybe I need a sturdier anchor," she muses, firmly wrapping her arms around my waist like a koala clinging to my back.

Another set of shivers run down my back as I relish in her warmth. I push all of that down and slowly accelerate, driving away from the feelings that I just wish I could fully submit to. This will most likely be that last time we are ever wrapped in each others embrace so I drive slowly, memorizing this delicate moment.


	9. Chapter Nine

"You want to soak in the hot tub with that sunburn? Isn't your skin already on fire?" I snip as I finish towel drying my hair from the shower that was strictly used to wash away sand that was shoved into every crevice of my body.

"I'm not that red," Emma pouts as her fingertips press into her shoulder and releases to watch the snowy white flesh quickly morph into a deep scarlet.

"Ma, have you looked in a mirror?" Henry deadpans, his long limbs outstretched across the sofa ready to relax for this evening.

"I'm fine. Hey Regina, look!" Emma playfully calls out and I find that damn phone in her hand again.

I quickly reach for the device, hoping that my hand blocks the camera enough to obstruct her view. "Dammit Emma, can you put that damn thing away for five minutes?"

"I'm capturing memories," she annoyingly replies with an exaggerated eye roll. "Regina, don't you wish you had pictures to look back on from your childhood?"

I roll my eyes, annoyed that of course she would be in tap with my feelings toward the matter. "I suppose."

"Well, I really wish I had some old photos that I could skim through."

"You don't have photographs from your childhood?" I softly inquire knowing she hates to speak of her past.

"No," she breathes through a fake laugh and busies herself with something on her phone. "Foster parents didn't waste time or money on taking pictures and even if one of them did, I sure as hell don't have them. I don't have one photo of myself as a kid."

"I'm sorry ma, I never thought about that."

"It's alright, kid. I just want to make sure you do. Even if you are eighteen, they will still be precious memories in the future," she absentmindedly explains as her eyes become locked onto something on her phone.

"You know I do have some pictures of Henry when he was little," I gently assure her, gradually lowering myself onto the small couch beside her.

The corky woman quickly hides her phone away from my view which instantly sends a pain straight to my heart. I assume she must be texting her husband so I scoot away, offering her some space.

"W-uh-could I maybe see those pictures sometime?" She timidly questions with a slight blush pinching her cheeks.

"Of course."

"When we get back, I'll dig them out of the basement and we can go through them together," Henry recommends. "It's been awhile since we've looked at them."

"Sounds like a plan." She quickly shoves her phone between her thighs and moves right along to the next subject. "So, tomorrow we are going to buy some cheap camping gear and spend the night at a campground about thirty minutes from here," she reiterates our plans for tomorrow while I ponder why she's been so discreet with her phone.

"Yeah, and we are definitely hiking on that trail. It looks like a lot of fun," Henry adds on somewhere in the background while my eyes are fixated between smooth thighs that are taunting me with a secretive phone.

What could she possible be hiding on that phone? Why was she so quick to avert the screen from my line of vision? Come to think of it, I haven't actually heard her on the phone once with her husband...or her mother for that matter. Truthfully, she hasn't been texting that much either. For most of this trip she's actually been neglecting the device.

"Right, Regina?"

"Hmm?"

"I was saying we really should take advantage of the hot tub. Tomorrow we are camping and then we are coming back the next day and viewing the last college and then we leave the day after."

"Oh, yeah, sure," I mutter as she slowly drags me back to the now and erases my previous thoughts clean from my mind.

"Well...go get your suit. Henry, you're coming in, right?"

"I rather not sit in a hot with my moms," he dryly replies with a look of torment clouding over his features.

"Fine, be that way," Emma teases. "Regina, go get your suit," she repeats while I blink in surprise.

"You still want to go in?"

"Yeah, of course."

"So, just you...and me...in a hot tub?"

"And probably a bottle of wine," she mindlessly replies as she struts into the small kitchen and fetches a chilled bottle from the refrigerator.

"Yeah, I'm definitely staying in here and watching a movie," Henry mumbles mostly to himself.

"Go get changed, I'll meet you out on the patio."

My mind is running a mile a minute, shuffling through every impossible idea as to why Emma would be so willing to soak in a hot tub with me because this just isn't who we are? I slowly disappear into our room to change like I was instructed to, but my chest is aching with fear that with the right moonlight bouncing off her delicate skin, and the steam clouding my mind and the alcohol twinkling in her eyes that I might just slip up and pour my heart and soul out to this woman.

But, I'm Regina Mills, the Evil Queen and if there's one thing I excel in, it's masking my true emotions. So, I slip into my skimpy white two piece that I've kept hidden for far too long and toss a long dress over, because my son doesn't need to see that. I inhale one last deep breath before I confidently strut out of the bedroom.

"Ma's already on the patio," Henry announces when he notices my presence, even though his nose is buried deep in his phone, probably texting Violet.

"Thanks," I softly reply, my feet padding a little bit faster through the living room before he notices the flush burning my cheeks as the anticipation for this moment builds.

"Have fun," he calls out cheerfully as I reach for the sliding glass door.

I hesitate for a split second, peeking over my shoulder to fall directly into my son's dark, inquisitive gaze. There's a faint pout upon his thin lips, like he's trying to figure out where a jagged puzzle piece fits into place, but before I can even question his expression, his mouth is morphing into a warm smile. I exhale slowly and return an equally heartfelt grin that is special just for my baby boy. He nods, silently encouraging me to resume my path, and I obey, but I swear there's so much more hidden behind his face.

I gently slide the door open and slip through while my stomach continues it's repetitious somersaults.

"Hey, so we are out of wine and if we weren't on vacation I would insist we have a problem," she chuckles lightly as I close the glass door. "So, I settled for this bottle of Vodka."

"You bought Vodka? When?" I surprisingly question as I tip toe closer to the hot tub that Emma is already relaxing in.

"You were there the first day we went grocery shopping." The teasing blonde rolls her eyes as I begin to slowly peel away my cover up.

"I guess I was preoccupied with convincing you that salads can be a filling lunch option," I poke fun with a sly smirk, but the silence I'm receiving persuades my gaze to direct toward my friend.

A soft beautiful blush is sweeping across her high cheekbones, while her parted lips inhale shallow breaths of desire. I swallow down all my needs, because I swear Emma has never stared so hard at my body before and I need to calm myself before I act out irrationally.

I focus on draping my dress over a chair, just so I can take a moment to compose myself. I wanted this woman for so long now and spending this much time with her has only added fuel to the fire burning bright just for her. I wish I could have seized the day back when there were plenty of open opportunities, but I'm fairly confident she is straight. Emma's been associated with Graham, Neal, Hook and even that man Walsh during that missing year. If I'm being honest with myself, I had my fair speculations about her friend Lily, but I never questioned either of them out of respect.

"I-is that a new suit?" Emma stammers as her shameless eyes examine the thin crisscross straps revealing far too much skin around my hips.

"No," I simply reply, slowly dipping my toes into the scorching hot water.

I keep my head low, as if I am inspecting the bubbling water, and peek through my eyelashes to watch as stunning green eyes dilate while they trail across my chest. Despite the boiling water below, cold chills run down my spine, persuading little goosebumps to rise to the occasion. My broken heart beats just a little faster under her hot gaze and I don't realize until I feel an ache that I've been nibbling on my bottom lip as another distraction.

Emma clears her throat, finally ending this unbearably tense moment. "I uh, made us some martinis."

"You did?" I retort, utterly shocked by the concept and lift my gaze to meet hers.

"Yeah," she shrugs as if the notion is not a big deal and thrusts a glass into my hand.

I smile kindly, accepting the drink and slipping all the way into the glorious tub. I sigh once the heat uncoils my tense muscles and I happily sip my drink. To my surprise again, a wonderfully, perfectly mixed martini.

"It's a shame Henry didn't want to spend the evening with us," I comment as I sink deeper into the heavenly waters.

"Can't really blame him, Regina. Any teenage boy would decline a night in a hot tub with his two mothers, drinking I might add," she narrows a pointed look in my direction, "especially in that sexy little number."

I almost choke on my drink, almost, but then again I'm a queen and a bit more refined. So, I swallow down the harsh liquid burning my throat and offer my most mischievous smirk.

"Sexy?"

"Oh don't act surprised. You know damn well that bathing suit is just screaming sex appeal," she deadpans, ending her explanation with a long sip of alcohol while I gradually raise one eyebrow in questioning. "What? I can't acknowledge a sexy swimsuit?"

"Clearly you just did," I reply dryly, holding a perplexing gaze just to watch this woman squirm like I know she will.

"Then why are you looking at me like that? Because I'm married to a man, I can't appreciate a sexy suit on a woman?"

"I never said that," I slowly reply, sipping my drink smugly and still holding her gaze over the rim of the glass.

"I can admire an attractive woman in a bathing suit," she demands and it's so painful not to laugh right now as the deep crimson blush breaks across her chest and burns her ears.

"Now I'm attractive, dear?"

"Okay, look, what I meant to say," she stutters through her words while her free hand begins gesturing nervously in the space between us.

"Please continue digging yourself in deeper here," I grin wickedly back at her and sip my cool drink once again.

"Like you've never appreciated the female form before? I'm fairly certain your eyes come on to every person when you waltz into a room, man or woman," she huffs out her annoyance, but never once do her eyes stray from mine, challenging me just like she did so many years ago and I love every minute of it.

The corner of my mouth curls up into a cocky smirk as I set my drink down on the edge of the hot tub. Slowly, I float just a smidge closer, to assert my power over her, and immediately she tenses just like I suspect.

"First of all, my eyes don't come on to _everyone_ in a room. Do I appreciate the beauty of a woman and the ruggedness of man? Yes, but that does not mean that I am not picky on where my attention should land. Second, why are you so concerned with whom my eyes come on to?" I mischievously mock, leaning just another hair forward.

She gulps, it's obvious and it's loud and my heart is pounding like a jackhammer beating into a ruthless cement block. Her dark thick eyelashes are fluttering faster than a hummingbird's wings as she tries to formulate one intelligent sentence together.

"I-I'm not," she weakly defends as her voice cracks in the most endearing way in my eyes. "It's just obvious the way you eyeball people sometimes..." her words evaporate into the cloudy steam surrounding us as I perch myself on the built in bench, right next to her.

My knee brushes against her silky thigh, sending an electrical spark to ignite between my thighs and I long to slide into her lap and show her the true beauty of being with a woman. Sadly, I refrain.

"Maybe it's not as obvious as you think," I husk as she struggles to acclimate to my close proximity. "Maybe you're not so sure as to what you claim to see and what's really occurring around you?"

"Okay, Regina," she chuckles nervously before she finally turns to meet my gaze head on, noses just barely touching. "I've seen the way your eyes wander when Maleficent is around," she coldly remarks and if I'm not mistaken there's a hint of jealousy that persuades me into pushing a little more with our boundaries.

"You see," I whisper so softly that she has no choice but to lean just a little closer, bathing me in her familiar scent of vanilla. "That's where you are wrong. My eyes never wander with Maleficent, because I could never allow her to ever think I am weak," I lower my voice even further. "I hold her gaze whenever she is around to assert my power."

"You're telling me nothing has ever occurred between you two? Because she is all devilish smirks and lust filled eyes when you are around."

"I never said _that_," I tease and even though my body is itching all over to connect with hers, I don't, out of respect for her.

"So you have slept with her?" She accusingly spits in my face as if I just cheated on her and I cannot stop the grin tickling into my cheeks.

"Maybe a few times back in the Enchanted Forest, before I was ever the Evil Queen."

"Seriously?" She balks, her eyes widening to a comical size.

"Yes, you clearly had your suspicions so why are you acting so shocked?" I retort, reclaiming my martini and downing the remainder.

"I-I don't know. It's one thing to assume, but a whole different ball park to know." Emma slowly steals my glass and lifts herself out of the water. The gorgeous woman perches her bottom at the edge of the tub and begins preparing our second round of martinis. My eyes following the little water droplets running down her abdomen like a peaceful river. "So, what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Sleeping with a dragon," she responds like it's the most obvious statement in the world.

"You do realize I never slept with her in dragon form, correct?" I clarify with one eyebrow pointed high in questioning, in which she rolls her eyes like she usually does. "Well, I was young...god it was so many years ago come to think of it," I mumble mostly to myself as I reflect on how many years I've actually lived thanks to the curse freezing time.

"How young?" Emma interrogates, shaking a tumbler smoothly like she's been bartending her whole life.

"Have you been a bartender before?" I blurt out as I watch her effortlessly pour our drinks.

"Yeah, when I first got out of prison, I worked as a cocktail waitress, until I turned twenty-one then I bartended. It was a good gig until I landed on my feet as a bails-bond person," she shrugs noncommittally as she hands over my drink and sinks back into the water. "Anyways, keep going, tell me more," she eagerly inquires.

I roll my eyes at her playful ways and sip my drink for liquid courage to continue. "I was nineteen and Mal was a lot older and I just remember feeling star struck when I first met her. She was this legendary sorcerous, who turned into a dragon and lit a tree on fire that burned for years," I begin to explain, my enthusiasm oozing from my pores reminiscing about those magical days. "Anyways, she was a washed out sorcerous drowning in tampered with sleeping curse solution which supplemented alcohol at the time. Long story short, I helped her find that fire again and in return she taught me all about revenge."

"So, how did you two end up...you know..."

"We were both buzzing from the exhilaration of magic and power again and she just had this way about her," I become lost in thought, remembering the way her soft fingers caressed my cheek while her strong aroma of magic filled my lungs causing my head to swim in desire. "She was a strong woman that demanded obedience and I was young, naive and in desperate need of affection."

"So, you're saying she took advantage of you?"

"No, not at all. I wanted it, I craved her attention, but I was still young. I was nineteen and had only been with one other person before and I hated any type of sexual contact at the time. But Maleficent, well she showed me a tender side that I was uneducated to. She was surprisingly gentle and worshipped my body in ways I never thought possible. She taught me what it was like to actually be intimate with someone."

"I-I thought Daniel was your true love?" She innocently questions, her eyes glossing over as she becomes enveloped in my story.

"He was, but I was sixteen and truth be told, I never slept with him. We were young and in love and it was just stolen kisses in a barn before my mother came out to watch me ride."

"Oh, sorry, I guess I just assumed..."

"It's alright, dear," I wave off the sentiment before things become too awkward and quench my parched mouth with her delicious martini.

"Oh god..."

"What?"

"Oh my god..."

My brows automatically pull together as I watch Emma's face drain from all blood and color. I quickly set down my drink and reach for her free hand beneath the water. I wrap both hands around her one and squeeze, hoping to turn her attention back to me.

"Emma, what is it?"

"You...you said you had only been with one other before Maleficent and that-that you hated any sexual contact," I wince, immediately recognizing that far off look in her eyes. "It was-"

"Don't say it," I coldly remark, dropping her hand instantly and scooting a little further back in my seat.

"But it was him, right? The King? My-well Snow's-"

"Please Emma, I beg of you not to finish that sentence."

"Okay, I won't say his name, but did he...he force..."

"Please Emma," I softly plead, hoping my tone will be enough for her to recognize my anguish about the situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, Regina. I never thought-god I'm so sorry."

"Please stop apologizing Emma, it's not your fault. Besides, things were different in that world, that's just how things played out. If you were a princess you were paired off and forced to wed. It was a woman's," I swallow hard, hating how the vile words taste on my tongue as they spew from my mouth, "duty to please her husband."

"I just can't imagine...I'm so so sorry."

"Please Emma, stop apologizing, it's over and in the past. _Well_ into the past by now." I quickly snatch up my drink and down the rest to wash away those tormenting thoughts that I've kept locked away for far too long. "So, you've never been with a woman before?"

My casual bluntness of subject change so clearly comes as a shock to Emma as she spits her vodka into the hot tub. "Oh god," she sputters, wiping the alcohol from her lips and chin while I just smirk smugly in return. "Uh, what?"

"Well, you are so curious about my relations with Mal, the real question is have you ever been with a woman before?"

"I-well...no," she mumbles under her breath like she doesn't want me to uncover this secret of her past, even though I already had my speculations.

"Have you thought about it before?" I casually question while consuming more alcohol to mask my sudden flicker of disappointment.

Even though I know she's married and my time has passed, this is just another confirmation that we were truly never meant to be.

"Uh, honestly?" It's two simple little words and yet her voice still cracks and trembles like an earthquake wreaking havoc in her throat.

"You know you can be honest with me."

"Yes, I've thought about it," she finally admits, with her head hanging low and those shiny locks obstructing my view from the blush I know is spreading wildly across her face. She stares aimlessly at her glass, her nails scratching at an imaginary spec as she replays her admission in her head.

"When was the first time you thought about it?" I softly whisper, not wanting to scare her away, because I'm learning so much about her and the thought of destroying this moment is soul crushing.

"Probably when Lily kissed me," she confesses and I swear a choir bursts into song from the admission I have been waiting forever to hear. "We were fourteen and we snuck into this house. I don't know, we were both being so playful and silly and then she asked if I had ever kissed a boy before and I said no and then the next thing I knew her lips were on mine. I didn't pull away and I followed her lead with every move she made."

"So, she taught you how to kiss," I reiterate, somewhat fishing for more information as I subconsciously float closer toward her warm and inviting body.

"Yeah," she shrugs just one shoulder, but the corner of her mouth is deepening into an adorable grin. "So, I guess that's when I first thought maybe I was into women. It just felt...I don't know, natural?"

"How come you've never been with a woman before if you say it felt so natural?"

"I panicked. I thought that maybe it was wrong. It's not like I had parents or siblings or anyone for that matter to talk it over with," she scoffs, growing a little more agitated as she reminisces about her rough childhood. "It was the nineties and it wasn't really something people were so open about. It's easier now, I mean it's still hard either way, but it's not as...taboo..."

"I can understand that," I agree as Emma quickly pushes herself out of the water and plops down on the edge of the tub. She quickly busies herself with making our next round of martinis while I watch her rigid posture carefully. "You seem tense, are you alright?" I softly inquire.

"Fine," she mutters, angrily shaking the tumbler to release any unwanted thoughts that are tormenting her mind.

"Emma, don't get all _Emma_ on me and build up your walls now. What's wrong? Tell me," I press further, slowly floating over to her legs.

Gently, I place my hands upon her warm knees, peering up at the woman to help encourage her into opening up. She sighs and begins pouring our drinks while I wait patiently, relishing in the small contact between us.

"Thinking back on my childhood, it's just hard sometimes. I didn't have anyone to teach me right or wrong so most of the time I followed my gut and feeling all those emotions toward other women...well that's the one time that I told my gut to shut the hell up. So, I swallowed those urges and buried them deep down..."

"Until..." I drag out the word, prompting her to finish her train of thought.

"It doesn't matter, life has moved on around me," she whispers in defeat as those haunted green orbs trail down toward her lap, where she finds me studying her intently.

"Emma?"

"Hmmm?"

Long golden tresses are portraying a curtain around her face as she gazes into my eyes and it's like she's hiding away from the cruel world, but allowing me a sneak peek into her soul. There's a vulnerability beating in her eyes that she hardly ever allows anyone to see, but now I see it, I see her. Without another thought my thumbs slowly caress her silky flesh upon her knees, still decorated with little water droplets.

"Aren't you happy in life?" I slowly inquire, terrified of the answer to come. Her jaw juts out as she contemplates her response, all while my thumbs continue soothing her body. "You constantly swoon over Hook and kiss him like he's your everything. Are you just curious and regretting your past choices?"

Emma gradually slides down into the tub, prompting my body to push back a little to allow her more room in the water. She takes down a greedy portion of her drink and when her eyes finally meet mine, I discover a seriousness settling upon her face that reminds me of all the times we ever fought in battle together.

"Look Regina, there's something I've been-"

"Hey moms," Henry's voice is like an electrical shock zapping through every nerve ending, forcing mine and Emma's bodies apart. Luckily, he's busy shutting the door and glaring at his phone to notice anything odd. "Grandma called, I think she's bored without you two," he laughs lightly, oblivious to the blush slowly consuming my face along with Emma's.

"I'm sure she is," Emma agrees, distracting herself with a long pull of alcohol to burn away the embarrassment of being so close to me.

"How's everything back home?" I quickly change the subject and also preoccupy my time with my martini.

"Fine," our son shrugs, still eyeballing his phone to avoid his mothers at all costs. "I think they are just concerned because they haven't heard from us. I told her that we have just been living it up here, really trying to get the most out of the trip."

"Trying," Emma mutters into her glass and tosses back the last of her drink like a shot.

"Well, we will be home in two and a half days and then things will be back to normal," I sorrowfully reply and watch out of my peripheral as Emma sighs like we just placed the weight of the world back upon her shoulders.


	10. Chapter Ten

Emma and I promised Henry at least one night of camping since neither of us have ever taken him when he was younger. So, we went out and bought the cheapest tents, sleeping bags and whatever other supplies this trip requires because we weren't about to haul all this stuff back to Storybrooke.

Emma drove the Jeep up a long and winding beaten path of dirt and rocks to the top of a mountain. Homes, along with tiny shops, are scattered all around the mountain side for tourists and other camping guests. Henry had chosen this particular spot from the hiking ratings on an app, apparently it's one of the most popular family camping trails.

The baby blue sky stretches on for eternity as we climb the side of the mountain, not one cloud to dampen our day. The sun is streaming down at just the right angle, illuminating the blonde beside me and portraying her like some angel from above. Discreetly, I reach into the center cup holder and at a snail like pace, steal the woman's phone, smirking maliciously to nobody but myself. Very casually, not to draw any attention to myself, I lift her phone and pretend to check the time. When in reality, I sneak a picture of Emma slumped against the door, relaxing with a giant goofy grin slapped across her face while she drives with the sun beating down around her.

Emma Swan is at peace and I find myself staring a lot longer than I initially intended because I'm in awe at her natural beauty. I just wish she could be this version of herself when we cross that town line leading us back into her destiny.

"This looks like a good spot," Emma acknowledges out loud as she slowly turns the steering wheel.

"Can we just camp anywhere?" I question.

"Oh yeah," Henry enthusiastically chimes in, leaning into the back of my seat. "This whole side is for camping and hiking." He unclips his seatbelt and hops right out of the Jeep.

"This is a perfect spot, nice and flat," Emma adds on as she pops open her car door.

I follow her lead, exiting the vehicle and walking around back to unload our equipment. Henry manages to balance most of the brunt work for us while I follow behind with a cooler and Emma stacks the firewood in her arms.

"This is going to be so much fun. You nervous mom?" Henry questions over his shoulder as he drops everything he is carrying and kneels onto the grass below.

"Why would I be nervous?" I kneel down beside my son and help him unpack the first tent.

"No offense Regina, but you don't seem like the outdoorsy kinda girl," Emma proclaims, unwrapping another tent as well.

"Seriously? Are you two forgetting that I grew up in the Enchanted Forest?" Henry and Emma both share a knowing look which only infuriates me in the end. "You two are the ones that grew up pampered, with indoor plumping, electricity, television, internet, video games and fast food just to mention a few," I ramble off as my fury builds from their accusations toward me.

"Okay mom, but maybe after living here for over thirty years, maybe you've grown accustomed to this lifestyle and kind of...abandoned your roots?" He timidly suggests knowing damn well I won't be happy with his view on me.

"Absolutely not, I know where I came from and I'm not ignorant to a world outside of plumbing and electricity," I rebuttal, hastily snatching up the poles to the tent and quickly snapping them into place.

"It's not a bad thing, Regina. You just prefer your high heels, sleek dresses and makeup, there's nothing wrong with that."

"Okay Miss Swan, after you finish that tent, please demonstrate for us how to build a fire and no lighters allowed," I sternly command.

"What? Why not?"

"We didn't have lighters back in the Enchanted Forest," I deadpan, finishing up with my side of the tent.

"Maybe not lighters, but you sure as shit had your fireballs."

"I was almost twenty when I finally learned how to control my magic and conjure fire."

"I highly doubt Princess Regina had to make any fires in a field," Emma rolls her eyes as she bends down to stomp her stakes into the ground, most likely imagining those posts with my head on top for how hard she's stomping.

"My father taught me well," is all I confess, before lugging my bag into the tent that for some reason Emma insisted we share to save money.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Give up, dear?" I tease, slumping further onto my makeshift chair that is in fact just a log.

"This is ridiculous," she grumbles under her breath for the umpteenth time, provoking our son to rolls his eyes and glare at me, like I should either stop being a lump on a log and help her or at the very least toss her a lighter.

"Just admit defeat and I will gladly start the fire for you."

"No!"

"Come on ma, just give up. It's not like starting a fire with twigs is a common thing now a days. Please just surrender so we can take that hike before the sunsets," Henry pleads as his birth mother angrily throws the sticks to the ground.

Emma juts out her jaw from her fury, because she is not one to accept loosing so well. She hastily pushes herself off the ground, standing tall before she crosses her arms over her chest. Furious green eyes glare down at the sad sticks that refuse to cooperate, no matter how hard she pleads.

"Fine, I surrender. _But_ I refuse to crown you Queen of Fire, until I see you create some roaring flames," she growls like a spoiled child.

"That's fine, dear," I stand from my log, brushing away the mess left behind, "but I won't make it until we return from the hike. No need to have a fire roaring unsupervised in this area."

"If you can't do it, just say so," Emma mocks maliciously with her chin pointed a little higher.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Henry see that tree over there?" I point in the direction I seek, my son following my finger and humming in response. "That's cedar, perfect for catching fire. Can you please tear some bark off? We will leave it out in the sun to really dry out and then shred it later, you'll be surprised how fast it catches."

Henry smirks, a hint of pride glistening in his eyes as he peeks over his shoulder at me. "Of course mom."

"Well just in case you can't make a fire because of...I don't know...the lack of sunlight tonight, I have my trusty lighter," Emma teases as she brushes passed me to help our son with his task.

XXXXXXXXX 

"I'm actually surprised you two are keeping up," Henry snickers to himself as he spins around on his tip toes in the dry, dusty, dirt, so he can face us.

"Why wouldn't we be able to keep up? We aren't that old," Emma sourly replies, hitching her backpack even higher upon her shoulders.

"I mean you're getting up there ma, and mom-"

"Don't even finish that sentence if you know what's good for you, my dear."

Henry rolls his eyes dramatically, but there's still a grin playing around his mouth. His shoes crunch against the beaten path as he turns back around to follow the trail.

The red dirt path is narrow, leading up the side of the mountain, surrounded by dull green patches of grass and sporadic groups of various trees. The higher we climb the more I feel as though the baby blue sky is enveloping us and we can almost reach out and just graze it with our fingertips.

I lean into Emma's side, her fingers securely wrapped around her backpack straps with her head down. Her baseball cap is hiding away the the deep red shade painted across her cheeks from the heat.

"Is there anything specific we are suppose to be observing on this hike?" I whisper for only her ears.

Emma shrugs, her head still hanging low as she whispers, "I don't think so." She pauses and steals a quick glimpse of our son ahead, even with her baseball cap so low, I can still see the pucker in her lips. "I have an inkling, that maybe this has to do with his decision about the future. I think he's testing to see if he can handle the outdoors like this."

"Hmmm," I hum as I contemplate her reasoning.

I glance up and examine how our son is practically bouncing effortlessly across the path. His shoes are shuffling against the dirt, creating little clouds of particles to poof beneath his feet. His hands are reaching out just to feel the rough bark of branches as we pass by. He's purposely making this hike harder for himself, jumping over fallen logs and climbing up scattered rocks.

It all falls into place and slowly crushes my heart. My baby is all grown up and he has made his decision regarding his future and by the shimmering glint in his eyes and the permanent smile across his face, he knows he's made the right decision. Now Emma and I have to accept this verdict as well, because he's never seemed so free.

"You're right and look how happy he is," I murmur, leaning in even closer to the warmth emitting from her body.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm terrified what his decision is because if it wasn't so drastic then he would have easily told us by now."

"I know," I sadly reply.

"Hey ma, snap a picture," Henry exuberantly cheers from his position balancing upon a rock near the edge of the cliff.

Emma breathes out a laugh through her nose while I stiffen at his proximity to the very edge. The blonde reaches into her back pocket and holds up her phone while Henry opens his arms wide, just expressing how tiny he is in this big wide world.

"Got it!" Emma calls out before she flips the screen on the phone and captures a pictures of herself with the beautiful mountain behind her.

She's sporting her usual dark blue skinny jeans, with a zip up hoodie and a black baseball cap. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, peeking out the back of the hat and there's a deep blush from our hike tinging her cheeks. And all I can think about is how beautiful she truly is. Even while she's hiking and sweating, I still find the woman incredibly gorgeous, in all her natural beauty.

"Stand on this rock behind me," she instructs, ripping right through my day dream and I don't even protest. I climb onto the rock behind her and bend down, with my hands on my knees so she can capture me in the picture. "Say cheese!"

I smile for the camera, knowing there's not much time left on this trip and wait for her approval before climbing down. I spot Henry balancing himself on a branch and then he too is taking a picture of himself before he jumps right down, sending a cloud of dirt to erupt beneath his sneakers.

"Henry, Regina, look at this," Emma shouts over her shoulder near the edge of a winding path.

Henry dashes toward her side, excited to see what else nature has to offer while I stroll casually, trying to memorize every moment with my son and his mother. When I reach the ledge, I don't even have to ask what they are gaping at. The enormous white sign stating, _Hollywood_, comes into view right away, trumping everything else below us.

"That's so cool. I never thought I'd ever see that," Henry acknowledges, but I think he's so lost in the moment he doesn't realize he said his thoughts out loud.

Emma slings her arm around his shoulder and roughly pulls him into her embrace. "I'm so happy you bugged us about L.A. for the past year," she laughs, placing a firm and lingering kiss to his temple.

"Turn around, we need a selfie," our son laughs, rapidly spinning around.

"I can take the picture, honey," I offer, already reaching for Emma's phone.

"No mom, I need more of us three," he declares, squeezing into Emma's side.

"Yeah, come on, Regina, scoot in," she demands, forcing me to press up against her other side while she stretches her arms out to snap another picture. "Okay, say, _thank god we aren't in Storybrooke_!" She sing songs, inspiring carefree laughs to burst from all three of us.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Need a light?" Emma condescendingly snarks from over my shoulder, earning herself a low threatening growl in return.

"No, I do not," I assertively state, never once glancing in her direction. "Just watch and learn my dear," I coolly reply.

I surround the dry cedar bark that Henry had shredded earlier around the log that contains my sticks that I will use for friction. My knees fall to the rough dirt below as I lean over the pit, remembering just how my father taught me to hold the two stick in my hands. I remember the lessons like they were yesterday, my father always wanted to make sure I was prepared in life, princess or not.

Rapidly, I rub the two sticks together between my palms, my hands maneuvering up and down with great speed to create heat and friction. Henry's right beside me, watching with bated breath, hoping I do not fail and make a fool of myself. However, my son does not know how many times I've actually done this, so I smile inwardly and continue.

A small puff of smoke begins to curl beneath the sticks, where the log is firmly rooted.

"Henry, go ahead and blow on the smoke, it needs oxygen to really turn into a spark," I instruct and watch as my son quickly bends down and blows lightly. The smoke increases and I believe I hear a small scoff behind me, but I continue. A small spark ignites causing Henry to tumble backwards. "Okay, now use the dry shreds of cedar to really catch the spark."

Henry dutifully follows my command, his face lighting up as he watches the bark catch on fire. I continue thoroughly explaining my directions and study the way my son builds a perfect teepee with the logs we possess. The fire quickly latches onto the dry logs, illuminating the small space around us and emitting a generous amount of heat.

"Wow mom, I'm impressed," Henry chuckles as we both sit back on the stumps acting as our seats for this evening.

"Thank you, honey."

I lightly pat his knee and steal a quick peek at the blonde standing on the other side of the rapidly growing flames. Emma's arms are folded and it's so painfully obvious that she hates that I succeeded, so I just smile to myself and ignore her.

"Alright fine," she huffs, shuffling her feet around the fire pit and tumbling down onto the log beside me. "I crown you, Queen of Fire," she teases while I simply roll my eyes in return.

Henry laughs, but then we all seem to fall silent as the flames trap us in some hypnotic tranquility. We listen to the crickets chirp their evening song, while the fire cracks against the burning wood and everything about this night is utterly relaxing.

The silence seems to stretch on between our family, but it's comforting. Nothing needs to be said in this moment and for once we are all more than okay with just watching the fire dance in the wind.

"I don't know if you two know this story, but back in the Enchanted Forest, I spent a few days with Snow in the forest, living in a hollow log that Snow used as her home and hide out from my guards."

"What?" Henry shrieks, turning his full attention toward me. "That was never in my book."

"I didn't think so," I softly reply.

"Well, tell us," Emma encourages, leaning just a little closer toward my stump. "You spent days with Snow and you didn't kill each other?"

"Well, to be fair, she didn't know it was me until the very end of our time. I wasn't exactly that crafty yet with my magic, so I asked Rumple to disguise me as a peasant so I could be out in the town and learn about Snow and what the people truly thought of me. Unfortunately, it was awful and people were cruel and I tried to defend, well myself and the whole matter was misconstrued. Long story short, Snow saved my life from my own guards and she brought me back to her place and took care of me."

"And you didn't try to kill her at all?" Emma suspiciously questions, knowing our history.

"No, she took care of me and when I questioned her motives, she told the story of when I rescued her on the horse. We spoke and bonded, she even handed me a weapon to protect myself. We almost made amends, we were very close actually but then she saw the damage I caused to a village and well, I think you both can guess what happened after that," I whisper, feeling slightly ashamed of my past choices. "So, as you can see, I have spent some time in a forest, practically camping out."

"That's so crazy, I'm surprised you and grandma have never mentioned this before."

"It was during those awful times that we both wish we could take back. Besides, that world seems like a different life now. It almost doesn't even feel real anymore," I confess, my words slowly fading away into the night and quieting my companions as well while they sit back and think about what I just expressed.

Henry finds a long stick to poke at the flames while Emma abruptly stands up and moseys on toward the cooler. She pops the lid, rattling some ice against the bottles before she slams the cooler shut again. She reclaims her seat beside me and leans into my side.

"I got these hard apple ciders, I know they probably won't be like your brew, but I thought maybe you'd like them," she shrugs, thrusting a bottle into my personal space.

"Thank you," I whisper, flashing her my most endearing smile as I accept the beverage.

"Henry, you want one?"

"Emma," I gasp, halting Henry's arm from reaching any further for the offered drink.

"What? Regina, he's going to start college in two months, he's going to be drinking on campus. We might as well let his first drink be here with us, under our supervision," she reasons as she leans over my lap and hands Henry the bottle.

However, our son is sitting there, frozen to his stump as his inquisitive eyes flick back and forth between his two moms, which he has no idea who to listen to in the moment.

I sigh heavily and really assess Emma's explanation. I glance at my son, taking in his curious eyes and soft features and decide maybe his birth mother has a point. I rather have his first drink be with us and not with some strangers that could easily tamper with the alcohol.

"Go ahead," I breathe out, hating myself for caving so easily.

"Thanks mom," he smiles brightly as he twists the cap right off and tosses it into the open fire.

"Besides, I'm fairly confident your father fed him his first beer," I accusingly presume, glaring at the blonde beside me.

Green eyes blow wide as the bottle rests upon her dainty lip, she shrugs, seemingly unaffected by my words and proceeds to gulp down the majority of her hard cider.

"He's a good kid, Regina. It's better this way," she states with all the confidence in the world.

"Okay, but if he drinks too much and spends half the night hurling it back up, then it will be you taking care of him," I demand, narrowing my eyes in her direction.

"I won't drink too much mom, I promise."

I curtly nod, still feeling that sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach about my son consuming alcohol, and slowly twist off my cap. I press the cool bottle to my lips and take a long sip. Of course it's nothing like my cider at home, but it will do for now. I'm sure Emma has some oddball rule about camping and wine, just like baseball games.

"So, Henry," his other mother begins and I can already tell she's treading lightly, "should we even bother visiting that last school tomorrow?"

"Uh, why would you say that?"

"I just feel like maybe...you already have your future figured out?" She weakly suggests, like some timid stray cat backed into a corner of an alley.

"I think it will be good to see the last college," he vaguely concludes, neither confirming or denying that he does have his future mapped out.

"Alright," I slowly say before consuming more of my drink, eyeing my son skeptically.

We fall silent again; Henry quickly gulping down his hard cider, while Emma picks at the label with her thumb nail and I know everyone is trapped in their own minds to actually seek comfort in one another right now.

"Hey mom, you're enjoying your time with Aunt Zelena, right? You two are becoming closer? And you like helping raise Robin, right?"

My eyes flutter rapidly from the surprising turn of conversation. I peek to my left, discovering that Emma is just as taken back as I am by the question. I lean a little closer to my son, the burning flames heating up my left side as I reach for his knee.

"Where is this coming from?"

"I just want to make sure that when I leave for college, you won't be too alone," he states exploding with mature concern.

"Honey, of course I won't be alone-"

"Yeah kid, she has me and grandma too," Emma quickly chimes in, sounding a little baffled at the moment that Henry didn't even mention her.

"I know ma, but you have Hook and probably will be starting your own family soon and-"

"Jeez, is there some program that lists the events to my life that I'm suddenly unaware of?" Emma scornfully raises her voice.

"Emma-"

"No, I don't understand why everyone keeps assuming and pressing the issue. Look kid, my life with Killian has nothing to do with the relationship I have with your mother. My mom and I will still remain friends with your mom and we will still be a family. End of discussion," she firmly states, snapping to her feet and trekking toward the cooler for another drink.

"Alright," Henry suspiciously drags out the word, but decides against pressing the issue any further.

"Henry," I gently squeeze his knee to gather his attention, "listen, I will be just fine. I love spending time with little Robin and my sister. I actually enjoy my relationship with Snow now and I adore Neal. I will be just fine," I vow, watching as Emma grumpily rummages through the cooler.

"And ma?"

"What about Emma?"

"You two will be fine?"

"Of course," I agree, swallowing down all my fears and trepidation about what the future may have in store for the two of us when our son is no longer around to keep us bound together.


	11. Chapter Eleven

My son's cheeks are extra rosy this evening and I know it has nothing to do with the flames burning bright in front of him. His goofy grin has turned lopsided sometime during this evening. His olive green eyes are glossy and somewhat squinted as he chuckles to every statement that sweeps through the space between us.

He's drunk.

"I mean ma, he was kinda a goofy looking fellow, don't you think?" He inquires playfully, leaning his elbows lazily onto his knees with that permanent crooked grin.

"He wasn't _that_ bad," his birth mother rolls her eyes and sips her hard cider as a distraction. "If I recall, you really liked him at the time."

"Who names their kid Walsh?" Henry chuckles, provoking my teeth to suck in my lips to keep my smile at bay.

"I don't know. I mean wasn't he technically from Oz? Maybe he inherited his name from a member of the lollipop guild," she chuckles along with our son, while I snicker inwardly.

They both finish up the last of their beverages, tossing their bottles into a bag we have for garbage. Henry awkwardly clambers off his stump, like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time, wobbly knees and all.

"Henry, where are you going?" I softly question his motives for standing and watch as he stumbles toward the cooler.

"Another round," he cheers while Emma quickly jumps up from her log and rushes over to his side for support.

"I don't know kid, I think you're good. You're feeling warm and bubbly, correct?" She interrogates as her hand slips around his waist to keep him steady while I lean forward in my seat, ready to help if need be.

"Yeah, I'm feeling good," he slurs the slightest.

"Then this is the point where you stop, because one more and you'll spend the rest of the evening with your head in a toilet and the next day hating life with a splitting headache," she explains through a gentle smile while Henry beams at her and hangs on every word.

"There's no toilets," he rebuttals, gesturing widely around them.

"Well then my dear, you will spend the night freezing outside your tent with your head in a bush with a suspicious raccoon eyeing you," I chime in, standing tall from my seat and shuffling closer to my son.

Henry barks out a carefree laugh, the kind that makes his eyes all squinty and his cheeks burn red and all I see is a four year old version of my baby, giggling so hard when I would ruthlessly attack him with tickles and kisses.

"You're funny mom, you should let other people see your silly side," he suggests between his fit of laughter.

My eyes immediately shift to Emma, who is watching me with a soft smile and a twinkle of...maybe adoration in her eyes. I quickly avert my line of vision and cup Henry's chin.

"Honey, I think it's time to call it a night," I gently recommend and caress his chin with my thumb expressing my love and concern.

"I know, I know," he winks dramatically causing me to flinch from the action that holds some sort of hidden meaning behind it. "Alone time for Henry's moms," he laughs innocently.

"Don't ever refer to yourself in third person, girls don't like that," Emma playfully reprimands him, inspiring our son to mime zipping his lips shut and locking them before tossing away his imaginary key.

"Come along, honey." I move to his other side to help Emma guide him, but he quickly brushes us away.

"I don't need my moms tucking me in anymore," he snaps, but his words hold no bite, just teasing banter. "I got this." He straightens his posture and holds out his hands like he's testing the winds for balance. "I'm glad you two are spending time together." He slowly begins swaying away toward his tent trying so desperately to appear sober. "It's about time," he mumbles under his breath, but he's intoxicated and whispering is a foreign concept at this point.

He reaches his tent, dropping to his knees to fumble with the zipper before climbing in, but just before he zips it closed he peeks his head out. His eyes are heavy and glossy as he stares back at us, his cheeks pinched crimson and his smile is from ear to ear.

"Mom, tell her the truth," he firmly states before shoving his head back inside and zipping the tent shut.

My heart starts thumping a little faster, wondering what secret this mother and son share that they are keeping hidden away from me. Then my mind drifts to the name, _mom_, Henry usually refers to me as mom and Emma as ma. Panic spreads through my veins like a toxic infection from this enigma.

"Uh," Emma stammers like maybe our son was calling her out instead. "Another cider?" She quickly changes the subject completely, granting my body permission to breathe a little easier now.

_What on Earth was Henry referring to?_

"Of course," I reply, encouraging the blonde to retrieve two more bottles as I reclaim my seat.

The moment I take a seat, my eyes become transfixed on the tranquil movement of red and orange. I rest my elbows upon my knees, fingers wiggling toward the fire to capture some of the heat to warm my chilled bones. Suddenly, there's a bottle disrupting my view, so I quickly snatch it up and twist the cap.

"Sometimes that kid can be annoyingly cryptic," Emma points out, somewhat steering us back toward the conversation I thought we safely sailed away from.

"He's far too intelligent for his own good."

"Well you only have yourself to blame," Emma teases lightly. "I bet he was reading by two."

"Don't be so silly, he was three," I conceitedly reply.

"Oh my god, Regina, I was teasing. Neal is almost four and our mother is a school teacher and he's nowhere near learning."

"Henry was very inquisitive as a little boy, just like he is now. He was always so eager to learn. So, one day I decided to just try and he just picked it up so quickly. I wasn't about to hold him back."

"I very faintly recall that time in his life. I try to hold onto those fake memories you gave me, but when I awoke and remembered that they were just fake memories, they started to fade away. But, that's amazing, you're such an amazing mother," she sighs, dropping her gaze so she can peel back another label. "I'm so thankful that you found him and raised him," she confesses through a watery wobble quivering in the back of her throat.

"How can you even say that after all he's been through?" I quickly argue as regret and embarrassment about my life choices regarding my son, creep up my spine like a disgusting hairy tarantula.

"What?" She blinks, those piercing green eyes snapping in my direction to meet my cold gaze.

"After everything I put our son though with the curse and lying to him and making him feel inadequate, how can you sit there and say you're happy that I adopted him?"

"Seriously?"

"Emma, he _hated_ me when he brought you to Storybrooke."

"He didn't _hate_ you, Regina. He was ten and confused."

"Stop! Don't try and make excuses-"

"You stop! I'm not making any excuses," she firmly demands while I roll my eyes in return. "No, Regina, I mean it, stop." I scoff, drowning in my suffocating self loathing, that no matter how much I fight to swim to the top of, I'm always sinking right to the bottom in. "Look at me," I refuse, staring aimlessly at the wild flames rippling in the small wind breezing around us. "Regina, look at me," she commands more assertively and I reluctantly obey, making sure I roll my eyes in the process again. "Do you honestly think, if you were such a terrible mother, that Henry would have begged and pleaded with me to protect you?"

"Emma-"

"No, think about Regina. If you were honestly an abusive mother and Henry really hated you, do you think he would have had me swear to keep you safe and alive?" I purse my lips, unsure of how to respond. "Listen, he was ten, and he just found out he was adopted. Take it from a foster child, there's this gaping hole in your heart from not knowing your birth parents. Regina, Henry could have been adopted by Oprah-"

"Oprah?"

"Yeah, she has a ton of money and just gives cars away, you know? Like the nicest person..."

"I know who Oprah is, Emma," I deadpan.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is it doesn't matter who adopted him, he still would have this hole in his heart from not knowing his birth parents. Curiosity gets the best of us sometimes. And yes, he was angry and confused and he lashed out on you, but that doesn't mean you were a terrible mother."

"Please-"

"No, I mean it. Henry is wise beyond his years, he's scrappy, he's lovable, he has a heart of gold and so inquisitive, like you said. Do you honestly think if you tortured him and were such a terrible mother, he would have turned out the way that he did?"

"Charming genes?" I weakly protest, with tears glistening in my eyes from her admission, which earns me a small snicker from the passionate blonde beside me.

"Somethings are nature, I'll give you that, but somethings are nurture and there's no denying that. He wouldn't be the young man we have today if you didn't raise him so well. He's intelligent, witty and so damn lovable because of you. Because you taught him how to love. So don't sit here and say it's because he's the Savior's son, because he wouldn't know how to love very well if he didn't receive hugs, kisses and support as a child growing up."

"Emma," the tears are stinging my eyes, but I fight them back. Slowly, I lean into the small space between us and place my hand upon her knee for comfort. "You're lovable too," I delicately whisper, because I think she's projecting her childhood in some of this rant, halting her hand midair from taking a sip from her bottle.

She laughs humorlessly and tosses back the remainder of her drink. "I have a very hard time loving anyone beside my son." My heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach, and again I find myself pleading with my tears not to spill over the brim. "I can only say, _I love you_, when the person is about to die and sometimes even then I struggle."

Very carefully, hoping I don't pop this intimate bubble that we have created around us, I sweep my thumb over her knee so she's knows I'm right here with her and that I hope she can continue opening up to me.

She gradually turns her head to meet my watery gaze, her lips firmly pressing into a straight line before she continues.

"Did you know, I told Neal I loved him _after_ Tamara shot him and he was hopelessly falling into a portal?"

"Em-" my voice cracks because I know that gut wrenching sensation of feeling like you don't know how to love very well.

"And I did. I fucking loved that man so hard that I swore to never love another like that again, because I never wanted to feel that type of loss again."

"I get it, that's how I felt with Daniel," I whisper through her painful confession with one single tear finally leaking down my cheek.

"Then I started dating Killian and every time he was around, I swear he was holding his breath just waiting for me to say those three little words, but I couldn't. When we were cursed in Heroes and Villains, I watched him die, Regina, and didn't mutter those three words."

"I know, I remember you coming and confessing about the situation," I gently respond.

"And I swore to myself, '_next time I see him, I'm gonna jump in his arms and scream I love you on the top of my_ _lungs_' and you know what?" She angrily questions while my stomach coils up like a twisted slinky from her mention of the pirate. "I didn't say it. I saw him and I choked on the words, because he was safe and I didn't need to put myself out there again."

"But you did say it later that evening, right before you became the Dark One," I rudely comment, harsher than I anticipated, but I can't stand the way jealousy bubbles up inside of me when I have to sit here and listen to her talk about loving a worthless pirate.

"I did," she tosses her bottle into the fire with a sudden fury that angers the flames to spark and shatter the glass into millions of little pieces, just like my heart. "Because I thought I was a goner. I thought I was becoming the Dark One and there was no way out and our relationship was done for."

"But don't you love...Hook?" I swallow down the bitter vile stinging my throat and force myself to mask my emotions.

"I have to tell you something," she chokes out as she abruptly spins on her stump to offer her full attention.

"Okay," I drag out the word because I cannot think of anything else to say in this moment while her knees are pressed up against mine and we are both leaning in dangerously close because there's suddenly something thick in the air, drawing us closer and closer together.

"There's a reason why Henry hasn't been sleeping at my house anymore, I-well we never discussed it, but he's smart...he knows." My hand has never left her knee, so I continue caressing the soft denim as I listen to her every word. "I've been sleeping on the couch at home. I-I-I just don't know anymore."

"Emma, are you and Hook just going through a rough patch?" I whisper, the words barely making it passed my lips as I hold my breath for what's to come.

"I rushed everything. I rushed into our proposal and our wedding because I thought my life was coming to an end. I wanted to have a wedding and marry someone who loved me before my time was up. I thought my life had an expiration date and when I beat fate and I actually won and time slowed down around me, I realized this is not the life I wanted. I don't love Killian the way a wife is suppose to love her husband. I just don't. I tried, I tried so many times to explain it to him, but he doesn't get it. He thinks I'm just bored with life because there are no villains and I don't know who I am without them. And maybe that's a part of it, but it's so much more," she desperately vows, through her scratchy voice from never taking a moment to breathe during her confession.

Thick tears are clinging to her eyes, provoking those golden specks to shine brighter than all the twinkling stars above. We both lean forward, maybe on instinct, maybe because she's vulnerable and is seeking comfort in her time of need, but I continue caressing her warm knee, silently vowing to always be there for her.

"This isn't how my life was suppose to be. This isn't how I envisioned my future. I-I don't love him. I don't want him. God, and I definitely don't want to bring a child into this world with him. I haven't even slept with him in two months," she breathes out like that secret has been weighing down on her lungs, crushing every opportunity to take a breath.

"Emma, why didn't you come to me sooner? I would have helped you through this," I murmur for just her ears, feeling her pain within the confines of my own heart.

"I couldn't," she exhales slowly, her warm breath, sweet from the cider, brushing against my lips, and tingling them in the process. "I haven't told anyone. He's been wanting to work it out, but my heart isn't in it anymore," she discloses as her eyes flick down to my lips, still tingling from her gentle breath.

"Emma," I softly reply and it's a plea for her not to continue, because I'm not sure if I can handle the truth, if my assumptions are correct on where this conversation is headed, I'm doomed.

"It's so hard to continue on, ignoring. Aren't you tired?" She whimpers, her voice thick with emotions, persuading mine to bubble up to the surface as well so she's not in this alone.

"What?" I breathlessly whisper, the entire word never finishing.

"God, Regina, please don't tell me that I'm being an idiot here. Please tell me you feel it?" She begs for me to relieve her from her torture and agree with all my heart to end this constant torture.

I swallow back the sob threatening to break passed my lips and the tears ready to tumble down hazardously because, yes, if she's declaring what I think she is, then yes, I've waited forever.

Watery green eyes drop down to my lips, as Emma licks her own. My heart thumps murderously in my chest, threatening my life from the tangible tension and apprehension of what's to come. Ever so delicately, she presses those dainty lips up against mine, immobilizing every cell in my body. I don't breathe, I don't swallow, I don't move a hair, because there's no way that Emma Swan is actually kissing me right now.

The silky soft flesh slowly disentangles from my lips, the sound of our lips cracking and parting left in her awake. But she doesn't pull back very far and her eyes are still closed when she whispers, "ut-oh."

"Ut-oh, indeed," I breathe upon her lips because we both know we are in trouble now.

It was the tiniest taste of the forbidden fruit that we both know that cannot happen anytime in the near future, but now there's no turning back. She felt, I felt and there's no denying a connection that deep. If this was one of her sappy, eighties, romantic comedies, there would be fireworks exploding their cheer of approval behind us.

While her eyes are still closed and she's trying to breathe through this moment, I search her face, hopelessly scanning for the truth behind this kiss, but all I see upon her delicate features and soft pout is sincerity. I'm not sure how long she has felt this way, or maybe she's vulnerable and searching for comfort, but I know there's nothing but honesty behind her words.

Tenderly, my shaking fingers slide up her soft cheeks, my thumbs absentmindedly caressing the flushed skin below as I take a chance and guide her lips back to mine. She doesn't protest the least bit, in fact she eagerly captures my lips again and sighs like maybe I'm her Savior when in reality she's mine.

Her slender fingers slither into my hair, firmly holding the back of my head as she gently guides me in closer to her mouth. My lips immediately part from the delicious sensation humming through my blood, encouraging me to deepen the kiss. Emma's mouth doesn't skip a beat, her lips parting and her tongue quickly meeting mine that sends sparks through my extremities.

We both moan into the passionate kiss, and that's when my mind is dragged back to reality and I quickly break apart the kiss.

"Emma, we can't," I sadly profess while those glistening green irises search my face for an explanation. "You're married. I can't be responsible for breaking up a marriage," I declare, my fingers slipping away from her face like my one chance at happiness slipping through my fingertips. And I have never loathed being a hero more than in this moment.

"But my marriage is done, it's over," she declares with every bit of sincerity she can offer.

"Nothing more can happen, until it's officially over."

"But, Reg-"

I slowly stand from my log, whisking away the last of Emma's sentence. "You know where I'll be when you're ready to end your marriage." Affectionately, I cup her chin, making sure I have her full attention at this point. "Then we can sit down and discuss whatever it is that you think this is," I vow, my thumb lightly tracing the outline of the pout embedded into her lower lip.

With that being said, I waltz toward my tent with my head held high, knowing I did the right thing, but with an ache in my heart that has never been so fierce from craving the savior so hopelessly.


	12. Chapter Twelve

_A/N: Since you lovely readers have been so kind with the reviews and asked nicely, I decided to post another chapter today. Enjoy! _

The night was long, excruciatingly never ending, not to mention cold and terribly uncomfortable with twigs and random dirt patches pressing into my back. Yet, none of that mattered, because a more pressing issue was tormenting my mind, making it impossible to sleep a wink.

Emma Swan kissed me and I walked away like a damn fool.

So, Emma being Emma, spent most of the evening drinking in front of the bonfire, hazardously tossing the glass into the flames whenever she finished one. When she finally had enough of self-loathing, she stumbled into our tent, drunk and buzzing with maddening fury. Neither one of us said a word as she angrily unzipped her sleeping bag and wrestled herself inside.

And that's how we stayed the rest of the night until the first sign of sun; laying side by side, shoulder to shoulder crammed into a tiny tent, refusing to touch or speak to one another.

When the soft pink hue peeked over the horizon and seeped into our tent, Emma and I both shot up and quickly exited, still in silence. I began preparing a breakfast over a small fire while Emma packed up our tent, not one word muttered.

Henry woke up not too far along after, luckily, not too hungover since he's still young and can easily bounce back. We ate, in more silence, unless Henry filled in the gaps and Emma and I mostly hummed along or answered every once in awhile. Then, we packed up the Jeep and Emma drove us back to the hotel, thankfully the radio filled the void of communication.

When we arrived back to the hotel, we all showered and slept a few hours before the last college visit. Emma quickly made some sandwiches for us and before I knew it we were back on another campus.

"American Film Institute," Emma reads the brochure once again as we stroll through the campus.

"This one was very difficult to book a tour of, its very popular," I note as we pass by a large theater room, but Henry keeps walking and doesn't bother taking a peek inside.

Emma and I share a knowing look, but we continue following our son. "I'm sure it was hard to book a tour here. Did you see the names listed on here?" Emma questions, in hopes to catch our son's attention, but he's not biting. "Marvel, Disney, Dreamworks and ABC, this is crazy, kid."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," he acknowledges as we stroll right passed a room with video camera equipment and right toward the exit. "Hey, there's Matt and Julie, I met them on the beach the other day. They told me they were looking at some colleges too."

"Are they a couple?" Emma curiously questions as she eyes the duo.

"No, I guess they just grew up next door to each other and they are both into film. I'm gonna go say hi," Henry says, _finally_ with a smile on his face as he jogs away from us.

Which leaves Emma and I alone again and we haven't truly spoken since I rejected her last night. The tangible tension is so thick and so unnerving that I feel like crawling out of my skin right now.

So, in deafening silence, we watch as Henry engages with his new acquaintances. He's smiling and laughing, like they have all been the best of friends since they were little toddlers running around. Then the girl with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, places her hand on my son's shoulder, slowly dragging her fingertips down until she grips his upper arm and squeezes. An obvious blush spreads across Henry's cheeks while he smiles back at her like she's a bright new shiny toy.

"Uh..." Emma, clearly perplexed by the over friendly touch stutters beside me. Henry reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his phone and this _Julie_ girl, quickly snatches it up with a wide toothy grin. "Isn't she being a bit flirty?" Emma finally manages to string together a sentence with her mouth agape.

"I believe so, but it seems our son is playing right along," I notice as she types something into his phone and he smiles a mile wide.

"You don't think he would...cheat on Violet, do you?"

"I don't believe so. I would like to think we raised him better than that."

"This is what we get for praising and gushing over him last night," Emma sarcastically quips as our son opens his arms and the girl tumbles right in for a tight hug.

"Oh he's in so much trouble," I mutter under my breath as he playfully lifts the girl off the ground earning himself a little giggle in return.

"Maybe it's all in a friendly manner. Maybe we are reading way too much into it. He's usually pretty shy."

I only hum in response as we watch our son trek back with a giddy grin across his entire face and a deep blush painting his cheeks.

"So, I think we are good here. I've seen everything I need to," Henry states while nervously shoving his hands into his pockets.

"So," I begin in a low tone that my son will recognize as I am dead serious. "Is operation mixed tape no longer in the works?"

"What?" Henry squawks, completely thrown off guard.

"That girl seemed a little friendly," Emma adds on. "You should be careful, you wouldn't want to hurt Violet."

Henry exhales slowly and brushes right between Emma and I, dragging his feet to the car. His birth mother glances in my direction, before we follow his lead, again not really speaking to one another.

"Henry?" I try the softer approach as we all slip into the Jeep. "You still have to respect Violet, even if she isn't here and miles away."

"I know that," he grumbles like it's the most obvious statement ever muttered out loud. "So, Matt and Julie invited me to a party tonight and I think I should go and enjoy my last night here."

"Oh, ummm," Emma stammers again, peeking over at me through the corner of her eye.

"Henry, a college party-"

"Please don't say I'm too young because in two months, I'll be at them every weekend."

Emma groans beside me as she tosses the car into drive and exits the school's parking lot. I spin around in my seat so I can have a proper conversation with my son.

"It's not that we don't trust you-"

"Please mom," he exasperates, "I'm eighteen, I'm not a baby anymore. I can handle one party."

I fall back into my seat and glance at the anxious woman beside me, tapping her thumbs repeatedly against the steering wheel.

"Emma?"

"I-I don't know, kid. Will you be home by midnight?"

"Jeez ma, Cinderella was even granted until midnight. How about two?"

"Two?" I shriek, purely on a reflex action.

"Fine, one-thirty," he counters, slumping further into his seat for not getting his way.

"Okay," Emma whispers, completely unsure of herself or this situation.

I sigh heavily, allowing my eyelids to drift closed and block out this moment that just confirms that my son is now adult.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Don't wait up," Henry calls out over his shoulder as his hand reaches for the doorknob. "Even though I know you will."

"Wait, Henry, before you go, I just want to say one last thing," Emma timidly begins as she rocks between her feet. Henry spins around, offering his attention even though his body is buzzing with excitement and adrenaline for the evening ahead. "I just want to make sure you understand the repercussions of cheating."

My nose scrunches as my head whips in her direction, absolutely flabbergasted from this bold choice of words, seeming as how she is married and so eagerly jumped at the opportunity to press her lips against mine last night.

Our son groans, while his eyes and neck roll in obvious annoyance. "I'm not going to cheat. I'm not like that. I was going to wait until we got back to tell you, but I broke up with Violet."

"You, what?" I gasp, taken utterly by surprised because not once has he ever showed any interest in doing so.

"Yeah," he nervously rubs the back of his neck as though we are actually a pain in his neck, "I just don't think it's going to work out where I am headed in life. She wants to stay in Storybrooke, but that's not where my path leads."

"I get it, kid," Emma sighs, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Honey, you could have told us that earlier. I think that's very mature of you, instead of leading her on."

"And that's the last thing I would want to do. I still care about her a lot, don't get me wrong, but I just don't love her enough to stay rooted in Storybrooke when there's so much more out there in life, calling my name."

An adorable smirk slides across Emma's face, as her eyes glisten from our son's admission and I know she's just as proud of our son as I am. I take one step forward and cup his chin, peering deep into those forest green eyes.

"I am so proud of you for following your heart." I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his cheek before allowing him space to leave the hotel.

"So proud of you," Emma repeats, squeezing his shoulder for love and support.

"Thanks moms, now I have to go, Julie and Matt are downstairs waiting."

And just like that he's out the door and off to his first college party with Emma and I shouting redundant parent phrases of being safe on his way out.

We both sigh the moment the door falls closed, securely trapping us in the tangible tension that's been suffocating us since last night. Emma is the first to walk away, busying herself with something in our tiny kitchen while I scrape the back of my mind for something that will end this torment between us. However, the choice of words that spew from my mouth like a bullet at that start of a race, are clouded by my anger towards the woman and only cause more rage to pulsate through the room.

"Bold choice on pressing that matters of cheating with our son considering the turn of events last night. Guilty conscience?" I smugly reply, breezing right passed the kitchen toward the bedroom where I can hide out for the rest of the evening.

"Excuse me?" She growls in such a low tone that it's almost unrecognizable.

"You heard me, don't play the fool, Miss Swan," I spit over my shoulder, before slipping into the bedroom, a bedroom we share.

"Don't walk away from me, _Madam Mayor_," she fires right back with such venom that my blood instantly runs cold. Her heavy feet stomp across the suite and before I can even take my next breath, she's right there behind me, ready to fight. "After everything I confessed last night, you're going to sit there and accuse me of cheating?"

Her voice is rapidly increasing, but I can't find the strength to turn around and face her. We've been through so much in the last eight years and this is a topic I never prepared myself for and I have no idea how to fight against her when my heart aches for her love.

"Answer me!" She bellows, gripping my elbow and forcing me to spin around to meet her wrath.

There's that fire again, raging in her eyes and burning just as bright as the day she easily tossed me into a closet and threw me up against a locker like I was some rag doll.

I quickly yank my elbow from her clutches and fight against every instinct that's screaming for me to throw her down on the bed and show her who's really in charge here.

"Are you not married? Did you not kiss me last night?" I calmly retort with all the elegance of the Queen I once was and steal an assertive step forward, lowering my voice maliciously. "That's the definition of cheating, my dear."

A snarl immediately curls upon her dainty little lips as her eyes flash fury. "I did _not_ cheat, I told you my marriage has been over for months. I've been sleeping on the couch for six months now," she defends her actions, and even though she may have a point, I just feel the need to continue fighting because I cannot stand another minute of silence between us.

"Well, you sure fooled me with how chummy you two were at Henry's graduation."

"I told you, he keeps trying to fix us and I felt guilty from the idea of our marriage ending so soon, so I played along when we were in public, but every night when we are home, I tell him it's over and it's not working."

"Then leave! You don't have to stay in that house, Emma."

"It's _my_ house, Regina. The first house I have _ever_ owned. He needs to leave, like I told him before this trip, he needs to start packing his stuff because I am not willing to try anymore when I get back."

I quickly take a step back from her personal space, because now we are yelling in each other's faces and this won't solve anything.

"I'm not doing this with you now, Emma, like I said, we can discuss this when he is gone," with that I spin on my heel, ready to storm off, but her fingers are curling around my elbow again, forcing me back to continue on with this fight.

"No, I want to talk about it now!"

"Well, too bad. I'm not going to discuss whatever this is between us while you are struggling to separate from your husband and are vulnerable."

"I am not vulnerable," she groans with a dramatic eye roll, never once releasing my arm. "But I am so fucking tired of acting like this doesn't exist," she admits, gesturing frantically between us with her free hand.

"_This_," I scoff, wrenching my arm free from her grasp, "you can't even identify what _this_ is?" I mock, folding my arms defiantly over my chest to keep my emotions bottled up inside, before too much slips through the cracks.

"Regina, please," she softens, persuading my heart to follow suit, "I'm trying to hash this out. I'm trying so hard to open up, even though every instinct in my body is screaming for me to run out that door and avoid you like the plague." I have to roll my eyes to keep the small chuckle at bay. "I can't keep living like this, I need to know."

"Know, what?"

"That you feel this pull as much as I do."

"Since when do you feel something more than annoyance out of our relationship," I cruelly comment because I'm not ready to tear down the walls that I've built so high around my heart from her.

"Why do you have to be so damn difficult? Obviously, I have felt more for a long time now."

"_Obviously_?" I balk at the bold statement. "How could you possibly use that term? You have never showed that type of affection or attention toward me," I rebuttal, knowing that calling Emma out on her actions will only infuriate the woman more.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Her face contorts painfully into bewilderment as she recklessly tosses her hands into the air. "Do you not remember all the times that I hazardously placed my life on the line for _you_?"

"Oh come now, we both know that was because you're the Savior, you're hardwired for good deeds, not to mention our son asked you to protect me."

"Don't even belittle my acts by using the Savior title. I pushed you out of the way from that soul sucking wraith and risked my life for _you_! Do you honestly think that was for my ego?"

"No, I think it's because our son made you promise to protect me," I quip without a moments hesitation, causing her to growl in frustration.

She rapidly shakes her head, her limbs trembling with rage as she prepares her next argument. "No, I don't know what I was exactly feeling back then, but I know it came from something more." She steps forward, but I step back, perfectly in sync, just like we always seem to be with one another. "Fine, how about the time I saved you from a burning building?"

"Nobody would leave someone behind like that."

"Says the woman who blatantly said I was going to leave her behind," Emma sarcastically retorts. "Let's not forget when I stood up for you against my parents when they thought you killed Archie."

"Oh please, you were so quick to turn on me."

"It's not my fault your mother disguised herself as you and I saw the scene play out on a dream catcher, that looked like cold hard proof."

"I'm not doing this with you, Emma," I quickly reject anymore half brain schemes she's about to unbury from our past and move to step around her, but she's right there blocking me, with her hands up to stop me.

"No, you need to listen."

"I don't have to do a damn thing-"

"Stop! Stop being so stubborn and blind to the fact that I've been in love with you for years!"

"What?" I gasp in pure shock, thinking maybe I misheard her.

"Yes, I'm in love with you and I've been trying to show you because I-I never could find the courage to tell you because I was too terrified of ever loving someone so strongly again. And I knew, I knew if I ever allowed myself to really let go and truly love you, then I would be in a world of hurt in the end."

"Why?" I coldly demand, staring deep into those pools of green that are swimming in so much sorrow and oceans of pain. "Because I'm the Evil Queen and I could never live up to your standards?"

"No," she rapidly shakes her head as her eyes fill instantly with tears, "because we were never destined to be and the world already designed our fate as enemies."

"What are you rambling about?" I whisper, my eyes transfixed on those beautiful shimmering irises that are so desperately trying to keep her tears from ever falling.

"Your life, it was manipulated and forced into becoming the Evil Queen and my life was written and orchestrated from birth to be the Savior. We were destined to be enemies, not lovers. Our fate was designed and we were never meant to be. _I_ was never meant to be the one to find you. You had Robin, he was your soulmate, he was meant for you, not me," she chokes on her words and finally a single lonely tear dribbles down her cheek.

"Yet, somehow, despite all of that, you always find me," I whisper, tentatively reaching between the small space between us to gently wipe away her tear. "I adopted your son, and he found you and brought you home, to me. We have saved and found each other time and time again when nobody else ever could."

Tears are welling up in my eyes and I wish I could turn away and hide my vulnerability, but she's watching me carefully and I'm suddenly lost in a sea of green and there's no way I could ever break her gaze, but I need to protect myself.

"Yet," I slowly break apart from our close proximity and take a generous step back. "You chose your villain, you easily picked Hook after every wrong he ever did to you _and_ me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb now."

"No, seriously Regina, what did he do to you?"

"He was the reason Greg and Tamara had the opportunity to strap me down and electrocute me," I spit in disgust, my body instantly reacting to the tortured memory that almost cost my life.

"What?" She stumbles forward, reaching out for me, but I recoil, repulsed by the thought of any human contact with that memory so vivid in my mind.

"Yes," I softly murmur. "Your _husband_ tricked me, placed the anti-magic cuff on my wrist and _helped_ Greg strap me down." I swallow back the acidic vile slithering up my throat and mask my true emotions. "I can still feel his disgusting cold hook, gliding down my chest as he gloated over me about his stupid revenge on Rumpelstiltskin."

"What?" Her eyes double in size at the truth.

"Oh yes," I calmly reply, my nails biting into my upper arms as I strive to appear impassive. "And I sacrificed myself for the town after that and he ran off with your only bean of safety and you still forgave him so easily. Kissing him in Neverland like he was some _hero_."

"Regina, I swear I didn't know he helped Greg and Tamara. I swear," she pleads, rushing toward me again while I fumble backwards and end up against a wall. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, you made your choice. What's done is done," I indifferently reply, and move to step around her, but she blocks me yet again, placing her hands on the wall behind me.

"It's not something I chose lightly, I fought everyday against myself. I knew I could never open my heart to you because I would fall too deeply and I would never be able to piece myself together again if we broke. I was a coward and so I protected myself and picked Hook because I never truly loved him and it was so much easier to keep him around to avoid the epic destruction that we would have inevitably faced."

"Well, you made your bed, now lie in it." I quickly push her away and slip right passed her.

"God, Regina," she bellows, somehow immobilizing my feet from taking another step away. "Did you not see after I brought Marian back how I followed you around like a pathetic lap dog, begging for your attention?"

"If I recall, you said you thought we were friends," I flatly reply, staring blankly at the open door that is daring me to step through and finally end this atrocious conversation.

"I said we were special and unique because I didn't know how to express my true feelings. But would it have even mattered?"

"Excuse me?" I blink, taking a chance and peeking over my shoulder at the anxious woman behind me.

"I'm here right now, pouring my heart out to you and all you are doing is repeatedly shutting me out!"

"Because I can't do this!" I rapidly spin back around and clench my upper arms even tighter. "I can't have this conversation with you and the moment we step foot into Storybrooke you decide to give that unworthy pirate another chance. And where does that leave me? Alone. Again!" I scream in her face, but never once does she break eye contact or shy away.

"I'm trying here! Can't you see that!"

"I'm not putting myself out there just to be forgotten about."

"Seriously? I risked my life for you! I sacrificed my life and became the Dark One for you! And you can't even meet me halfway here?"

"I followed you to Hell and risked my life, Robin's _and_ Henry's for you because of Hook!" I counter, taking a demanding foot forward.

"I gave you my dagger, the one thing that controlled me!" She steals the last step, closing the gap between us.

"I followed you to the wish world!"

"I woke up from my wish memories and saved you from the fake version of Henry!" And with that last bit of rebuttal tossed in my face, Emma mutters, "fuck it," before she grips my face and crashes her lips to mine.

I quickly pull back from her heated kiss and search her eyes for an explanation, both of us, heaving for our next breath through the rage wracking our bodies.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Deciding my own fate," she declares before her lips capture mine once again to shut me up.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"Deciding my own fate."

And with that, her silky soft lips press up against mine and there is not one coherent thought left in my mind. So, I obey my body's instincts and wrap my arms around her tiny waist, surrendering to the moment and deepening our kiss.

Her slender fingers cling to my cheeks as though I am her rock keeping her grounded, while she begins walking, persuading my feet to stumble backwards as she frantically kisses me. When the back of my knees connect with a bed, Emma slides one hand behind my head and guides me down onto the mattress. Her warm body follows every inch of mine like we are meshed as one.

The moment she presses her body on top of mine and my back is sinking into the bed below, we both melt, slowing down our pace. She's almost timid as her lips delicately drag against mine, like she's trying to memorize the shape and texture of my mouth. She doesn't move to deepen the kiss, so I don't dare gamble the risk. I'm too petrified to ruin this moment, so I just lay perfectly still, gently kissing her like she's the most precious and fragile creature to ever walk this planet.

The room is painfully quiet, so quiet that I swear I can hear the air shifting around us. Every so often there's a small snapping from our lips breaking apart just to meet again with the warm delicious taste once more. My heart is pounding viciously in my chest, but I know hers is meeting mine, beat for beat.

Gradually, her fingertips press into my scalp, insinuating that she's craving so much more and inspiring my hands to lightly travel up her firm back. That's when she finally finds the backbone to push for more. Her timid lips break apart, guiding mine every step of the way before her velvety tongue dips into my mouth and I take the lead.

Swirling. Tasting. Divulging. Memorizing. Exploring. Everything I've wanted for too many years to count.

Emma's secure grip tightens at the nape of my neck as she inhales sharply, breathing me in and kissing me like I'm about to disappear beneath her. Her warm body slowly rocks on top of mine and it's so tentative that I swear she's seeking permission. My fingers press into her back, silently demanding that she never leaves this position.

Her hips thrust forward again, longing for the sensation that will relieve the ache between her thighs and automatically my legs part just as hopeless as she is for that serenity that will follow from friction. A euphoric tingle erupts and spills through my blood like liquid hot magma and it takes every ounce of stamina I possess in my body to keep from moaning into her mouth. She's hardly making a sound, and I'm too nervous to express anything at this point, because she can easily grow a conscience, fall back to her heels and decide this is far too much.

Just the idea, of having to bite back a moan sends icy chills to prickle against my skin leaving scattered goosebumps in their awake. However, she's pressing into my body again, deepening the kiss like she's stealing the oxygen I need to breathe and just like that the bitter chills turn to a flush of heat and I realize just how hot and sticky this room has become.

Carefully, I slow down the desperate kiss as my fingers skate down her back in search of the hem of her tank top. I slowly slide the garment up, allowing my nails to lightly scratch against her back, causing her to squirm a little against my body. I smile into the kiss, discovering that she is in fact ticklish and she smiles right back, meeting my gaze.

Emma hardly lifts herself off of me as I peel away her shirt and when I lift it over her head, unruly golden tresses cascade all around our faces creating our own private little bubble. She bends down immediately reclaiming my lips in a passionate kiss that expresses those few seconds apart were far too long, because we've already wasted eight years and we just won't stand for another minute apart.

My heels dig into the backs of her thighs as I roll my hips suggestively, needing so much more of her delicious body. My fingers press into her warm skin as I caress up and down her back, memorizing every beauty mark that decorates her pale flesh. I smile even harder into our kiss when I feel goosebumps pop along her skin.

She breaks apart the kiss and my heart immediately sinks to the pit of my stomach, assuming she's about to run. She backs up just a smidgen, her eyes peering deep into mine and reading straight through my soul and I'm so enveloped in her hypnotizing eyes that I don't even notice her hand snaking between us. Her fingers easily pop the first button on my blouse while she never once breaks eye contact. I don't notice her sly action until she slips the second button through and she nervously nibbles on the corner of her bottom lip. That look alone, with her gaze so intense and her biting that lip is so adorable and sexy at the same time that I fall in love with her all over again.

The air is thick between us, just our warm breaths exchanging between us while our hearts pound right up against each other. I swallow, feeling slightly self-conscious as she continues her way down to the last button. My blouse slips away, exposing my heaving chest, but her eyes never stray from mine as she dips down to steal another kiss.

Her chest presses into mine and the love she's pouring into this kiss washes away every negative thought I ever had about her true intentions with me. My hands glide up her toned back, until I reach my destination. My fingers move with expertise, unclasping her silky red bra and skimming up her shoulders to slide the straps down her arms. As my fingers descend lower, I admire every curve of her athletically toned biceps, remembering how delicious they looked in Neverland.

A low moan escapes from my throat and disappears somewhere in her mouth, provoking her hips to thrust harder at the apex of my thighs. She gasps against my lips before she ends the kiss, but her mouth remains against my skin. She plants kiss after delicate kiss down my chin, up my jawline while I squirm beneath her touch, until she slithers down my neck.

Lightly, she scrapes her teeth along the sensitive flesh, before her tongue pokes out to soothe the area. Wet, opened mouth, kisses are perfectly placed over every inch of my neck until she locates my collar bone. She nips the protruding bone before dragging her tongue along the ridge.

It's pure torture, the throbbing in my shorts is almost unbearable at this point because it's been five years since the last time I have slept with someone. I'm a heaving, panting mess at this point, but Emma obviously feels the need to brush her lips against every inch of my skin.

My hand quickly buries itself deep into her locks while her lips skate across my flushed chest. I hold her close as she yanks on my bra cup, exposing a heavy breast filled with need. My flesh breaks out in goosebumps again as her eyes admire my erect nipple just begging for her attention. Her head falls forward to place a tender kiss to my breast, but then she sucks the hardening bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around creating a new kind of ache to electrify beneath my pants.

I suck in a deep breath between my teeth, still unsure if I should cause too much noise and distract her from her glorious worship to my body. Much too my disappointment, Emma pulls back and straddles my thighs, but she does drag me up along with her.

One hand lovingly cups my cheek, while her other hand fumbles for my bra clasp. She connects our lips eagerly as she releases the fasten and quickly tosses it somewhere off the bed. My arms rest around her waist as both her hands cup my face and she inhales sharply, sucking the air within my lungs. She breaks the kiss and stares deep into my eyes, like maybe she can read all my deepest, darkest secrets.

"I do love you, Regina," she whispers, never faltering or breaking eye contact.

My hands skate to the small of her back before I press my fingertips greedily into her soft flesh and swoop up her entire back.

"I love you too, Emma," I fully admit before stretching forward and sealing my vow with the most passionate kiss yet.

Emma guides my body back down into the comforter, her tight peaks pressing into mine, provoking both of us to moan into our heated kiss. Her mouth soon disappears from mine again, planting meaningful kisses down my chest, through the valley of my breasts, where her lips lingering just a little longer over my frantic heart. She resumes her torture, gliding down my abdomen until she reaches my shorts.

Her fingers curl into my waistband, but she doesn't attempt to remove them. Instead, her tongue pokes out and licks my bikini line, her eyes fluttering closed as she showers in this moment. I keep my eyes glued to the top of her head, falling in love with the way her long locks sway all around my body, like it's dying to wrap around every inch of my skin and claim me as their own.

Her teasing tongue dips into my waistband again, savoring my taste like I'm her favorite ice cream, which I know is Rocky Road. My hips move to their own accord, bucking greedily for more of her touch. That's when she slides my shorts and thong over my bottom and down my thighs. She discards my clothing somewhere, but I don't have time to process that, because she is snaking her way up my body and capturing my lips again.

A shuddering breath falls from those pretty pink lips when the full length of her body rests on top of mine. I peck her lips just once before I turn the table and easily flip her onto her back. A small chuckle erupts between us as she reaches up to curl my thick hair behind my ear.

"Hi," she murmurs and suddenly I'm taken back to all those years ago when she first arrived on my doorstep and I couldn't stop myself from admiring her true beauty.

"Hey," my raspy voice thick with need croaks out before I place another short, but sweet kiss to her perfect lips.

I don't bother wasting another minute as I slither down her body and remove her jean shorts and little red panties along the way. I seductively crawl up her body, absolutely lost in the way her curious eyes are studying my every move. Our warm bodies mold together perfectly as I press my naked flesh against hers and I swear I can feel my entire body finally relaxing for the first time ever. We both breathe out harsh breaths as her hands slip between us and cup both my cheeks.

My head dips down to meet her halfway for a gentle kiss that expresses that we both don't want to rush and we just want to stay hidden away in this intimate bubble forever. Her warm tongue invades my mouth, provoking my hips to grind further down against her smooth center. She gasps into my mouth and it's the sexiest little sound ever to grace my ears, only encouraging my hips to rock with more determination.

My fingers snake beneath her neck and tread through her hair while I hold her into place. Her hands fall away from my face and find their purpose upon my back, clinging to my skin to settle the debate in her mind that I'm really here and not some unfulfilling fantasy that leaves her aching for more.

Our mouths find the perfect rhythm, exploring and caressing while our bodies slide effortlessly across one another's. The air is thick and soon our bodies are slick with sweat as she meets me thrust for thrust. Her short nails pierce my skin, digging in deep to keep her grounded, but I welcome the stinging bite because it's only adding more pleasure to this intense moment.

Her little desperate gasps force my mouth to still against hers, my mouth just hovering over hers as that familiar pressure builds in my gut. My left hand slips between our slick bodies, roughly grabbing her swollen breast, earning myself another pleading gasp.

Her nails rake down my back, leaving angry red trails of ownership in their awake adding more glorious pleasure to my frantic body. Both her hands grip into my full bottom, her nails biting into my flesh again as she encourages my hips to rotate faster. My fingers clench tighter at the nape of her neck when I feel her body below mine become wild.

Her hips are swaying in a reckless frenzy and I know she's so close. I capture her lips again, my tongue easily dominating hers while her mind spins from pleasure. The moan that follows is a deep guttural groan that vibrates between our chests. Chills run down my spine and spill through my veins as I feel myself slowly unravel.

We are both gasping and panting heavily into each other's mouth before my last rough grind that sends us both over the edge into our first orgasm. We both moan erotically from the euphoric buzz swimming deliciously through our bodies. We both still for a moment, desperately fighting for clean oxygen, but I need more of her.

My right hand untangles from her wild locks and travels sneakily down her trembling body. I smirk to myself, knowing that was nothing and we just begun. My fingers dance down her slick flesh while I examine her soft features. Her eyes are closed and there's a lazy smile plastered across her face while she squirms beneath my teasing touch.

My two fingers easily find her most sensitive bud and slowly begin to circle, dragging her spent body right back up to its highest potential. In the slowest pace possible, I swipe my fingers down her drenched slit and right back up to offer more attention to her throbbing bud. She shudders from my magical touch, latching onto my lips again as though she needs my mouth to survive.

She inhales sharply as my fingers spread her thick arousal that's only for me. Very gently, I easily slide one finger in and smile against her lips from the heavy gasp. Timidly, I pump the single digit, stretching her silky walls for my next finger. When my middle finger meets its partner she moans loudly, her voice carrying through the room and bouncing off the walls.

"Oh...fuck..." she groans, the words barely making it passed her lips like they are trapped inside her dry throat.

My fingers continue pumping at a steady rate while my hips proceed to grind roughly against the back of my hand, adding more pleasure to the gorgeous woman below me. I take a moment to really study her face, from her heavy eyelids, to her green irises that are barely visible anymore because of her pupils dilating like spilled ink. Her cheeks are a deep crimson and her lips are swollen from all my insistent kisses and even in my wildest dreams she never compared to the captivating beauty she possesses right this very moment.

"You're so beautiful," I whisper, obviously taking her by surprise by the rapid fluttering of her thick long lashes.

She stretches forward, stealing a frantic kiss as her fingertips press into my back to hold me closer. "I love you," she mutters again into my mouth, sending my heart soaring.

"I love you too," I repeat, and the admission sparks something delicious through my veins.

Even with all the time that I spent with Robin, we never once said those three little words and she herself said she struggled to express them to her own husband. Yet, here we are so easily pouring our hearts out to one another without a second thought.

My fingers pump with vigor, greedily taking everything she has to offer in this moment. Electrifying sparks prickle through my blood and suddenly I'm feeling an overwhelming amount of heat disperse through my extremities. The lights in the room begin to flicker, catching me by surprise, but I continue because Emma doesn't seem to notice.

"Oh...god..." she struggles to moan as her hips become lost in the moment, hopelessly searching for her next climax.

"Emma," I gasp when I notice a shift in the air.

Something that feels an awful like her warm and soothing magic infects my veins and coils protectively around every cell, every nerve ending and organism in my body. The presence of her magic throws me off balance for a moment, because we are in a land without magic, but then again this isn't the first time her magic sparked in this world when it should've been blocked.

"Regina...I...oh god," she pants heavily, inflicting an overwhelming sensation to ripple through my blood.

I swear I can feel everything she is in this moment. Her magic is thick, combining with mine in a way I have never experienced before. Her light magic swarms through my veins, pulsating and buzzing just below the surface, forcing my eyes to squeeze shut from the compelling force dominating my body.

Even with Maleficent and her strong magic, I have never experienced something quite like this. It feels like we are melting and fusing together as one, mixing our emotions and physical sensations. Every thrust inside her desperate hole is inflicted into mine as well, sending my head spinning from the overpowering stimulation.

"Fuck Regina," she screams, prompting my mouth to cover hers to swallow her sweet sounds.

I curl my fingers deep inside persuading her body to lose all control. Her body stiffens beneath mine and I actually feel her orgasm washing over her and dispersing into my blood, sending my body into a second orgasm as well. A bright white light flashes behind my eyes just before the bedroom lights flicker out.

My body buzzes and tingles while Emma convulses violently beneath me. I cry out, burying my face into the warm crook of her neck and tremble just has hard as she is. She wraps her arms securely around my back and holds me as close as humanly possible. We both heave and struggle for our next breaths as we come tumbling down from our high.

"Did-did the power go out?" She mutters into my hair.

"I think," I lazily reply, never once lifting my head to actually inspect the hotel.

"That-that was...uh...intense," she stammers.

"Indeed," I mumble, still trying to breathe through this staggering impact.

"Is it usually that overwhelming when two people have magic?" She timidly questions, provoking my heavy head to finally lift and meet her curious eyes.

The room is dark, but the silver-watery glow from the full moon lingering just outside our window, spills through the room, helping me make out her soft features.

"No, not necessarily," my eyes search hers for sincerity before I continue. "Did you..." I trail off not exactly sure how to explain what I just experienced.

"I think I felt your magic," she nervously answers, filling in the blank that I desperately needed her to answer.

"Yes, I felt yours as well," I admit, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to her swollen lips.

She tentatively reaches up, her fingers trembling as she curls my wild hair in disarray, behind my ear. "And you never, um, felt the magic exchange with Maleficent?"

"Never," I breathlessly reveal, encouraging her hand to cup the back of my neck and pull me down for a breathtaking kiss.

We gently break apart, but my lips never travel too far, because of this deep connection still running wildly between us and holding us firmly into place.

"That was really amazing," she confesses, her index finger trailing along the definition of my jawline.

"It really was," I broadly smile down on her, persuading her mouth to mirror mine.

"Regina."

"Hmmm?" I mindlessly respond as my fingers locate a loose curl, finding the fascination in twirling the strands around my digit.

"I meant what I said," this small phrase commands my full focus. "My marriage has been over for awhile now and you're the one I want to be with."

"Let's work on getting that free loader out of your house first," I lightly tease, producing a dopey grin upon her lips. "Come on, we should dress before our son finds us in a compromising position."

She frowns deeply, but her body is quickly moving beneath mine. "How about we dress and curl up on the couch to watch a movie until he comes home."

"We need to call the front desk and make sure they can turn our power back on or if it's the whole building." I chuckle, tossing her tank top at her face. "And you have to promise that we don't fall asleep in each other's arms."

She laughs, tearing the obstructing garment away from her face so her eyes can continue raking in my naked form.

"I can't promise anything, I didn't realize how cozy the Evil Queen actually is."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Once the hotel manager was able to simply flick the power switch and turn our electricity back on, Emma and I did rent a movie as we waited for our son to arrive. At first, the situation was uncomfortable between us, both unsure how close, or how intimate we should be with one another. We have spent eight years avoiding physical contact between us, so to breaking through those barriers is rather difficult to navigate through.

After the movie began, she slowly started to scoot a little bit closer, helping to ease the tension between us. When the movie was halfway through, we were both sinking deep into the cushions with my legs draped across hers and her head leaning against my shoulder. Luckily, we were able to hear the door and break apart immediately before our son caught us.

"Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!" Henry chants as he comes stumbling through the door. "Everybody!" He bellows as Emma and I scramble to our feet toward him. He chuckles, releasing the door and allowing it to slam shut behind him. "Man, great song. We really miss out in Storiesbooks!"

"Oh god," Emma laughs while I just groan at our son's drunken state, again.

"Oh look, it's the moms," he winks dramatically while attempting to kick off his shoes.

I quickly swoop in beside him, curling one arm around his waist and leaning his weight against mine. Emma bends down before us and takes the lead on pulling off his sneakers.

"How much did you drink, kid?" Emma grumbles, wrestling with one of his shoes.

"I lost count after the fourth chant," he tosses one arm recklessly into the air, throwing Emma and I both off balance. "Shots! Shots! Shots!"

"Henry," I scold in my most demanding tone that always snaps him to attention. "You have to be quiet, we don't need a noise complaint right now."

Henry's glossy eyes squint in my direction, causing me to swallow thickly under his scrutiny. He taps my nose and smiles like a mad man.

"You seem happier."

"I just yelled at you," I scoff at his oblivious state.

"Ma," he shouts, slinging his other arm around Emma and pulling us suffocatingly close to his chest. "You make her happier!" He giggles, squeezing us both so closed that my nose is practically kissing Emma's.

"Okay kid, we need to get you into bed," Emma concludes, struggling to untangle herself from our son's long limbs.

"Hey ma, you're from this world, do you know this song?" He clears his throat before shouting his chant again. "Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Everybody!"

"Yeah, it was all the rage when you were learning your ABC's," she deadpans, guiding him to stand more on his own.

"It's not _that_ old."

"It's old."

"Wait! Where's my phone, I gotta play it for my mom," he insists, digging deep in his pocket in search of his phone.

"Honey, as cryptic as the song sounds, I can wait until the morning for you to play it," I retort, guiding him toward his bedroom.

"Maybe we should make him eat," Emma whispers, tossing his one arm over her shoulder so she can help me move him.

"Oh man, tell me you got pizza," Henry practically salivates all over the floor below.

"He needs food to absorb the alcohol," Emma murmurs, trying to ignore our son.

"Time is the only thing that clears a drunken state," I rebuttal, escorting Henry toward his room, but then Emma maneuvers in the opposite direction.

"No, the food will help and he needs water."

"He's just going to throw it up anyways," I deadpan.

Suddenly Henry is squeezing us flush against his chest again. "Look at my moms, arguing again, just like old times. Did we fall through a portal in the past? Am I ten again?" He snorts while Emma and I just glare back at him.

"Okay, you're getting some water and then bed," Emma firmly states, disentangling herself from under his tight wing.

She scurries toward the kitchen to retrieve the water, unscrewing it on the way back for our son to greedily guzzle down. Henry leans into my side as I escort him toward his temporary room. Emma fumbles to open the door for us and quickly flicks the switch, brightening up his room.

"Honey, sit down on your bed," I instruct before I gently lean him closer to the edge.

He plops down with a heavy thud, instantly loosing his balance and falling completely on his back. He rolls to one side, giggling to himself while Emma dashes to the other side to make sure he doesn't roll right off.

"Let him have a drink, Regina," I mock in my most condescending voice that's suppose to sound like Emma. "He's responsible, he's a good kid," I scoff, catching his swinging foot and bringing it back down onto the bed.

"This is nothing," she states, resting her hand upon his shoulder to keep him still, "everybody goes through this, he's going to be fine. Look, he is responsible, he made it home in one piece and as far as I can tell, no tattoos," she smiles, but I just roll my eyes instead.

"Is that how you acquired that lopsided sketch upon your wrist?" I sarcastically comment, nodding my head toward the faded marking, while I attempt to pull Henry back into the seated position.

"No," she swallows thickly, the small word drowning in her sea of emotions wobbling in her throat. "I wasn't drunk, although I was at a some sketchy party in a basement where everyone was hammered and some guy was giving tattoos for free."

"So, you chose a strange man to mark you for life with some disgusting needle than drinking?" I interrogate, narrowing my eyes at the woman over our son, who is most certainly passed out at this point.

"At least I didn't get plastered like this kid," she nods in his direction, but he's out cold.

I roll my eyes and decide not to press the issue any further because our son needs our assistance. I peer down at my son, whose mouth is slightly parted with little soft snores tumbling out. I shake my head at him in disappointment, yet I still have a stupid grin across my face for the love I have for him.

"I'm going to pull him toward me, you try and yank the covers down beneath him," I delegate, which she agrees right away.

I place my hand upon his shoulder and pull him closer toward my side of the bed. His instincts take control and he scoots closer to me while Emma tugs the comforter beneath his long limbs.

Henry groans, shoving his gaping mouth into the pillow and snores even louder. Emma and I work together to maneuver the comforter over his body and tuck him in. I run my fingers through his hair and smile down on him like he's still my baby. There's a sinking feeling in my gut and I know in my heart this will be the last time I ever tuck my son in. So, I bend down and place a delicate kiss that lingers against his temple and memorize this moment, knowing it's my last with my baby.

When I pull away, I notice a set of glistening eyes staring right back at me. Emma bends down to kiss the top of his head before we exit the room together. Emma flicks off the lights while I close the door behind us.

It's quiet for a moment, neither of us really knowing what to say to one another. So, I try to make this as least complicated as possible and head toward our bedroom to turn in for the night.

"Hey," Emma's soft voice stills my feet from every taking another step forward. "Don't you want to finish the movie?" She innocently asks, with this full pout on her lips that I don't even think she realizes she's making and it's the most adorable thing I have ever seen this woman do.

"Of course," I offer her a small smile and find my way back toward the couch we were cuddling on not too long ago.

Emma shyly smiles back at me as she moseys back toward the couch. She plops down beside me, almost as hazardous as our drunken son moments ago, and cuddles back into my side. She reaches for the remote and begins the movie all while my mind spins with the notion of her just being so at ease right now with our close proximity.

"I never really tucked Henry in before," she suddenly confesses breaking through the silence. "He was too old when we were in New York," she whispers as her cheek rests against my shoulder and I just stare blankly at the top of her head.

I never even considered how strange or how important that small action that took place in Henry's room no more than five minutes ago, effected her. It's something that just came natural to me, seeing him lying in the bed, but to her it was some so foreign and maybe exciting as well.

"I suppose I didn't realize that you never had the opportunity."

"It was nice," she softly admits, her fingers slithering between mine and squeezing some reassurance into them. "I enjoyed tucking him into together...no matter how old," she chuckles to herself while I smile like a fool in return.

My lips move to their own accord, under some sort of enchanted spell as they press a delicate kiss to the top of Emma's head, because now that I've had her, I can't seem to get enough of touching this woman. I know I'm screwed, because I can already feel the addiction crawling through my veins and itching to touch her once more.

I glance down where our fingers are fastened tightly together and notice that flower tattoo again. With my free hand I lightly trace the old stretch, admiring how silky her skin is on her wrist.

"So, how come your rebellious, teenage self chose this flower tattoo," I teasingly question, still caressing the mark.

"Honestly Regina, I can't tell you what possessed me to allow some stranger to scar me for life, but when I saw that flower in his book, I just...I had to have it right then. It was like a calling, like it spoke to me."

My thumb lightly travels along one curve of a pedal to another and continue as I memorize the drawing, my heart swelling with so much adoration. "I'm not sure if you ever paid attention to the drawings in Henry's book..."

Emma quickly sits up from against my body and frowns as she stares deep into my eyes. "I mean, sometimes I have. I guess it kinda depends on the situation we are in. Why?" She suspiciously questions, her eyebrows automatically pinching together in concern.

"Well Emma," I reach for her wrist again, resting her hand in my lap as I skim her flesh with my thumb and I choose not to comment on the goosebumps spreading like wildfire. "This flower was on your father's coat of arms, it's like their family crescent," I explain while she just gapes at me in awe.

"Seriously? How have I never noticed before?"

"I'm not sure, I'm surprised you haven't had this conversation with your mother before."

"Maybe she never noticed it? Or just didn't know how to bring it up?" She mindlessly mutters as she lifts her arm up so she can inspect the tattoo as though she's seeing it for the first time ever. "Well, I guess they were always with me," she says to herself, lost in thought as she rubs the worn out tattoo, but I hear her admission and I know how important this is to her.

The thought of her parents creeps into my brain like some infectious disease and all too quickly my stomach is doubling over from guilt.

"Oh god, your mother," I mutter, tossing my head back against the couch. "She's going to have a massive heart attack if she doesn't murder me first."

"I'm sure it will be a tough conversation at first, but I'm sure they will be fine," she dismissively replies with a wave of her hand before she sinks back into my side.

"You give them way too much credit, dear."

"Come on, you're being melodramatic," she scoffs as she rests her head against my shoulder. "The only thing my parents have ever cared about is my happiness. That's not going to change."

"Why are you so calm about all of this?"

"Because it's nothing to stress over. I think you're forgetting how close you and Snow are now, she wants to see you happy as much as she wants to see me happy."

"Yes, but surely not together."

Emma quickly tears her head from my shoulder to meet my worried gaze. "Will you stop," she softly whispers, her lips just ghosting over mine, "I promise, they will be happy for us," she vows, sealing it with a warm gentle kiss, that drowns out my anxiety. "Okay?" She murmurs into the kiss, but all my mind knows what to do is nod in response. "Okay, now let's finish the movie."

XXXXXXXXX 

Well after the movie has finished and the credits rolled through to the end, Emma and I found ourselves lying face to face. Our legs were so tightly intertwined, even I couldn't tell where mine started and hers ended. The room is pitch black, the moon hardly granting us any light, but I almost prefer how dark it actually is, because this is still all too new and overwhelming and it's easier to open up when all my insecurities aren't on full display.

"I want to know about this," Emma's slender finger reaches in the small space between us and immediately my instincts take control, forcing me to dodge her unwanted touch. She frowns, her eyes shifting frantically for some answer upon my face. "Is it still sensitive to touch?" She whispers.

"No," I swallow back my apprehension toward the subject and set my protective mask in place. "I just don't feel comfortable with people touching it or discussing it."

"Okay, but if I'm being honest here, it's one of my favorite things about you. I love when you aren't wearing makeup and it's more prominent," she confesses, creating an expression of disgust to form upon my face because I cannot imagine anyone finding this hideous thing attractive.

"Well, clearly you have a kink for flaws," I flatly reply.

"Another dig at Killian? Can we just leave him out of our bubble?"

"Of course, I apologize," and I do feel a pang of guilt for bringing him into our intimate moment.

"I mean it though, this makes you...well you," she whispers, reaching up again as her finger itches to touch the scar and this time I don't shy away. She smiles, her delicate finger grazing the ugly mark with some much compassion I swear my heart is going to explode. "Will you tell me what happened?"

Those green are fixated on my scar and for the first time ever, I don't feel that disgusting self-conscious sensation creeping around the corner. So, my mouth pops open and the words tumble out without another thought.

"I was fourteen, and I wanted to take Rocinante out for a ride, but my mother had plans for me to meet some prince coming from far away as a possible suitor." Emma tenses immediately, her eyes flicking to meet mine, abandoning the scar, but I continue. "So, I disobeyed my mother because the last thing I wanted was to be some wife to a stranger I had never met before."

"I don't blame you," she mutters so quietly I would have missed it if I weren't staring so hard at her face.

"So, I went for that ride and really pushed Rocinante because I was furious with the life I was to lead. I pushed and pushed him to run faster and faster and somewhere down a beaten path, an animal crossed our trail and spooked my horse. I was thrown in a mess of sticks, leaves and dirt, I couldn't even tell you what scraped my lip, because I was so scared of the punishment to come from my mother. I was a mess and the prince was to come and I knew I was going to embarrass her and I would be in a world of trouble."

"So, she didn't cause it?"

"No, she didn't."

"But she had magic, she couldn't heal it?"

"Oh yes," my voice cracks from the awful memory embedded painfully into my head. "She could have, but she refused. When I arrived at home, dirty and bloody, her lip curled in such disgust she might as well have beaten me an inch from my death. I had never in my life felt such shame and embarrassment. She-well she told me that is what I deserved for disobeying her and that she would never heal it, just so every time I am rejected by a prince it would be a reminder of the hideous scar on my face that I deserve for being such a disappointment in her life."

"No wonder why you are so self conscious about it," Emma breathes like she can almost feel my pain. "God, Cora was such a piece of work, I am so sorry you had to grow up like that." Her warm palm rests against my cheek as her fingers lightly massage through my hair while her thumb sweeps lovingly across my cheek. "That scar, proves that you will never allow anyone to dictate your life, that you are a strong, independent woman that will never settle." She stretches forward the slightest bit, resting her lips against mine. "Not to mention, it's sexy as hell," she confesses before she sweeps me right off my feet and kisses me deeply.

My fingers curl securely around her wrist, holding her in place because I never want to let go of this feeling of her loving me for all my flaws and she must if she loves the Evil Queen so deeply. We both sigh into the kiss, before I break our lips apart.

"What about you?" I breathlessly moan against her delicious lips.

"What about me?" She smirks, that cocky little smirk that I find unbearably attractive.

"I know you have a scar here," I announce, grazing my thumb across the indent near her eyebrow. "And one here," I whisper, my thumb trailing down the side of her face, skating across her jawline and skimming playfully down her chest until I found the rough patch above her breast.

She purses her lips, struggling to keep her goofy grin at bay. "Well, I was four when I earned the one above my eye and truthfully I don't really remember too much. I think I jumped or fell off a playground and hit the edge of the equipment. It's all really fuzzy, the only thing I remember clearly from that day was the nurse offering me a popsicle to distract me from the stitches."

"You could have lost your eye or vision," I reply, appalled by the horrific story. "Did your foster family receive any repercussions for child endangerment?" I seriously question, but she just chuckles and pulls me in even closer.

"You're adorable when you're mad, but no, I was four and I was on a public park, things happen," she shrugs, not at all concerned with the distant memory. "Now, for this one," her consistent frown deepens as she peers down at her own chest. "There was a lump," my heart free falls until it clunks against my stomach and I am wracked with nausea. "I had it checked and it was just a cyst so they removed it. The doctor was a quack though because the scar shouldn't be this big," she informs me as her index finger brushes along the length.

"Emma, it wasn't-"

Big green eyes flick to my worried gaze. "Oh god no Regina, it's fine. I'm fine. I promise. It was just a cyst and they removed it very easily, nothing more."

"Good," I breathe out in relief and peck her lips for some sort of comfort.

Our intimate bubble falls silent as we both search each other's faces for some answers, unsure of our future, unsure what even tomorrow will bring.

"Do you think Henry will be okay with all of this?" Emma questions cracking through the silence.

"I think we have a remarkable young man, who we raised well enough to only have our best interest at heart," I softly reply while Emma nods along.

"He's a good kid, and I think he will be happy as long as we are happy."

Emma leans forward, her lips lazily connecting with mine as her eyes flutter closed and I know she's growing tired as am I. I watch with great interest as her lips slowly peel from mine, but her head never falls away. She stays snuggling in close against my face as she gently drifts off to sleep. I take the peaceful moment to study every line, every wrinkle, every bit of her face until I can no longer fight the sleep weighing down on my heavy eyelids.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

There's a faint click off in the distance, sweeping away my dreams and startling my mind back to reality. Heat. So much heat is engulfing my body and I can only assume it's the adorable clinging blonde that I shared this couch with last night. Panic settles deep into my bones from the thought of our son waking up hungover to find his mothers cuddling on the couch.

I quickly spring forward, but there's no resistance and when my eyes fling open, I come to the realization that I am alone. My hand mindlessly pats the area where Emma slept snuggled into my side all night, like this small action will find her there despite what my eyes are informing my brain.

The sun is shining brightly through the living room, almost blinding and that's when I realize the sun is the reasoning for the immense heat. My head whips around the room frantically as my heart thumps angrily with my biggest fear.

_She ran._

Soft snoring is sweeping through the hotel from behind me and I know my son is still out cold. My feet are moving before my mind and padding across the suite in search of unruly golden tresses. As my half asleep body stumbles toward the shared bedroom, I repeat to myself that Emma grew uncomfortable on the couch and retired to her bed.

However, I am sadly mistaken when I discover both of our beds empty. One is still perfectly made from the day before and the other is all discombobulated from our activities. I sigh heavily, my head resting against the door frame as I stare aimlessly at the ruffled comforter and tossed around pillows.

_Of course she ran. What the hell were we thinking? What the hell was I thinking to surrender so easily?_

I inhale sharply and I swear I can still smell that alluring aroma of her warm vanilla scent embedded into her sun kissed skin. I push my body off the frame and into the bedroom. I busy myself with packing since we do have a flight in a few hours.

I try not to think about the gentle way she kisses as I angrily throw my clothes into my bag. I definitely don't think about how delicate each stroke of her fingertips were against my bare skin as I collect my bathroom cosmetics. And I most certainly don't recall the intensity we shared as we both climaxed together with our magic blending together as one.

I finish with my bags and drag them into the living room near the front door. I glance at the couch, but only for a moment because the warmth spreading through my blood just thinking about her enticing green eyes hanging on my every word, is far too much. I decide I need another distraction, so I find it in my son's room.

Quietly, I gather his clothes around the room and begin packing his duffel bag, refusing to think about the horrific thought of Snow's insistent Saturday family dinners at Granny's with Hook and Emma sitting across from me. I never allow that sickening feeling to sink in at the thought of Emma taking her husband back and leaving me in the dust. I'll be damned if I allow the image of them kissing happily in front of me, with his smug, pompous ass smirking at me afterwards.

I growl under my breath as the front door softly clicks shut, grasping my full attention. I toss down a pair of Henry's jeans and dash out into the living room ready to blast her with magic like I did when she accused me of killing Archie. It's a shame I don't have magic here.

"Hey," Emma softly whispers and the tenderness in her voice distracts my raging anger for a brief second and that's when I notice the tray of coffee cups and a brown paper bag. I'm at a loss for words so I just fold my arms across my chest and assess the situation. "You okay?" She asks, fully concerned as she sets down her items.

"I-I just-" her thin eyebrows are pinching together, puzzled by my sudden stuttering. She rounds the kitchen counter and steps right in front of me.

"Is something wrong?" She whispers, enclosing the gap between us as her eyes shift all around my face for a clue.

"I thought you panicked," I fully admit, not wanting to start, whatever is between us, off on the wrong foot.

"No," she shakes her head with a dopey grin plastered across her face. She quickly leans forward to confirm her reply with a short, but sweet kiss. "I thought we needed some strong coffee for the travel home and some bagels," she informs me as she turns to walk away, smirking over her shoulder at me. "Henry still asleep?"

I clear my throat and take a second to calm down from my nervous break down moments ago. "Yes, if he's not up in fifteen minutes you're going to have to wake him."

"Me?" She squawks while I saunter toward the coffee.

"Yes, it was your ingenious plan to allow him to drink this weekend," I mock, sliding onto a stool and sipping my coffee cautiously.

"Fine, but I'm only allowing you this win because I'm still on a high from my orgasm last night," she flippantly retorts.

If I wasn't a queen and knew very well by now how to maintain my composure, my coffee would be splattered across this counter right now. Instead, I swallow very hard and cough through her blunt statement.

"Go wake your son," I coldly reply, hoping she doesn't spot the flush burning my cheeks right now.

"Our son," she smiles proudly before sweeping happily out of the room and into Henry's.

XXXXXXXXX 

An hour later we were out the door and heading to the airport. Three excruciatingly long hours after that, we were in the air, but this time I did not spend the entire flight with my head shoved in a toilet. Maybe it was just the anxiety of my first flight, or maybe I had eaten something the day before, but I am so relieved that I wasn't violently ill this time as well.

The car ride back into Storybrooke in the bug was filled with silence. Henry slept sprawled out in the backseat, but Emma and I were both hesitant to utter one word that could possibly entrap us. Every so often, I could feel the heavy weight of her eyes boring into the side of my face and every now and again I would glance back at her and she would quickly focus on the road with a smug smile dancing around her mouth.

As we passed through town, I noticed David's truck parked outside the station, Granny's diner littered with cheerful customers and Snow walking hand and hand down the street with Neal. My stomach coils like a snake wrapping itself securely around its enemy and I have never wished to be as far away from Snow White than I do in this moment.

Emma must sense my despair, because without a moment of hesitation, she reaches across the console and latches onto my knee.

"Hey, I promise it will be okay," she whispers, in case our sleeping son has his nosy ears on.

"Easy for you to say, you're her daughter. She has to forgive you," I scoff, but it's only halfhearted because my mind is distracted by her touch.

And maybe I'm wishing her hand would travel a little further up and our son wasn't in the backseat. Then I'm spiraling down a dark tunnel of what ifs. What if she can't find the courage to officially kick Killian out. When is the next time we will actually be alone together? What if this all blows up in our face because her and I are both known for destruction, not the beauty of love.

"Please, calm down," she whispers, her tender voice clouding over my blaring thoughts while she squeezes my knee for support.

"Okay," is all I can say and the last word spoken until we arrive at my house.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Thanks, ma," Henry wraps his arms around his birth mother's neck and squeezes with all his might, but she doesn't mind as her eyes fall closed and she breathes him in.

"No problem, kid. I love you."

He slowly breaks away from her embrace and glances at all our luggage decorating my foyer.

"I guess I'll start bringing these up for you mom," he chuckles while I offer him a warm smile. "It's the least I can do since you two tucked me in last night," he attempts to joke, but even he winces and his voice falls flat from embarrassment. "I still think I need more sleep," he mutters as he slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and lifts my bag onto his other.

"Rest honey, you probably won't feel better until tomorrow anyway. Maybe we will order out tonight," I suggest as he wobbles toward the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm going to nap and then I could really go for a greasy burger from Granny's."

"Oh kid, you gotta get her onion rings, it will help sooth the hangover," Emma adds on her two cents while I roll my eyes at her blunt statement.

"That sounds so good," he groans, climbing the stairs awkwardly from all the luggage weighing him down.

Once Henry has disappeared in his room and we both hear the definite sound of his door closing shut, I turn toward the nervous woman practically buzzing beside me. "So..."

"So."

"Would you-" I begin at the exact same time she breathes out, "I hope you-" and we both fall silent.

From the amount of overwhelming nerves tingling through my limbs, I lower my gaze and try to breathe through my embarrassment and uncertainty of all of this. Emma anxiously rocks from her heels to her toes and stuffs her hands into her back pockets. She clears her throat and gestures for me to continue.

"No, go ahead," I conclude, trying desperately not to fiddle with my fingers.

Why is this so hard and awkward between us? Of course this was to be expected after sleeping with one another, but after everything we talked about on the couch last night and that open and intimate conversation, I thought we were passed this awful tension pushing us further and further apart.

"Okay," she steals a small step forward and ducks down to meet my gaze. "Look, I hope you know officially breaking things off with Killian might be rocky, but I need you to know that you are my goal in mind. I want only you. So, this next week might be...bumpy while Killian leaves, but I hope you can find the patience in your heart, because I do...love you," she professes, lowering her voice for only my ears.

"I understand, I do and I don't believe it is wise to flaunt around...well, us, when you aren't even divorced yet. I don't need anymore animosity thrown my way."

"I agree," she concludes, but this conversation is slowly sinking in and for some strange reason, this doesn't feel like a new fresh start to something, instead it feels more like an awful break up.

She takes another tentative step forward, her gaze cast somewhere between our feet. Just barely, I catch her nibbling on her bottom lip, before she takes a chance and presses her lips to mine. I'm frozen for a brief moment, my mind ruffling through too many thoughts to land on one, however the image of our son catching us is the most vivid picture.

That scaring, complete and utter mortification of someone catching us, sparks something deep within and sends adrenaline pumping through my veins like epinephrine through an IV. My fingers clench the straps of her tiny tank top and force her body flush against mine, causing her to stumble.

She moans instantly against my mouth, so I deepen the kiss, guiding her lips apart and eagerly slipping my tongue into her mouth. Cold fingertips are suddenly in my hair, sliding across my scalp until her hand is possessively cupping my neck and causing my knees to grow weak. An involuntary moan leaks out of my mouth and vibrates into hers, persuading her body to push further into mine.

She rushes forward, backing me up until I am trapped between the wall and her over heated body. My fingers curl tighter around her thin cotton fabric while her right hand buries deeper into my hair and her left hand slides down my body. I gasp into her mouth, needing so much more of her because it's been so long since someone has man handled me and I love every moment of it.

Her body slowly slithers down mine, but never does she break apart the kiss before she roughly slides right back up, pressing me further into the wall. There's just something about this woman that drives me absolutely insane and unexpectedly my hands are gripping her face and bringing her in even closer.

Emma groans hotly into my mouth, her thigh wedging between my legs and forcing them apart before she firmly presses it against my needy center.

I gasp from the glorious sensation warming every cell in my body, but I try to cover it up by whispering her name. "Emma," I turn my head, abruptly ending our frantic kiss. "We can't, Henry," I pant heavily, desperately searching for my next breath.

"I know," she shakily replies, resting her forehead against my chest.

With quivering hands, because I'm itching for a taste of her and I know I can't have her right now, I run my fingers through her hair and hold her close, breathing in her calming scent.

"Let me know the minute that pirate is out of your house."

"You really can't bring yourself to say his name, huh?" She chuckles before placing a sweet kiss to my heaving chest. "I'll call you soon," she promises, reluctantly pulling away from my embrace.

"You'll know where to find me," I state before I watch her walk out my door.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

One grueling week. Seven days that seemed to be never ending as I waited for Emma Swan. I swear the woman was abducted during this time, because not once did I ever spot her bustling around town. Normally, we would run into each other when grabbing an extra caffeine rush during the day at Granny's. Other times, I would see her during drop offs and pick ups with Henry. At least once a week I would find her lingering around my office with either paperwork from the sheriff's station or when she would claim to be bored and would bring lunch for us to share at my desk. But none of that occurred this week.

I was almost tempted to ask Henry if I should alert the authorities of a missing person, either that would raise some concern or at least bring the sheriff out from hiding to laugh in my face and remind me that she's the sheriff and is okay. Henry stayed at my house all seven days, never once even suggesting that he visit his other mother, so I assumed she warned him to stay away, anticipating the fights to come with her husband.

Emma laid low and I was in a frenzy, stressing over the assumption that in the end she decided her marriage deserved another chance. Even Snow and David were scarce around town and that only increased the pang of guilt weighing down on my heart. Maybe they all decided to keep a safe distance from the Evil Queen because of the damage I caused to Storybrooke's most popular married couple.

"Hey mom, can we talk?" Henry asks the moment his feet reach the bottom of the staircase and just like that, my heart plummets. "It's kind of important." I swear I'm going to be sick, thinking this has everything to do with his two mothers.

"Oh course, honey. Take a seat," I lightly pat the couch cushion beside me and fake my best smile.

Nervous energy is buzzing off my son like little electrical shocks as he enters the living room and claims the seat I suggested. He's clenching and unclenching his fist in order to force himself to calm down, but it doesn't help. The moment he sits down beside me, his knees start bouncing involuntarily and my heart breaks knowing this is going to kill me in the end.

"Are you alright?" I softly inquire, dipping down to meet his eyes, but he's very interested in the coffee table that has been decorating the room for well over thirty years.

"Yeah, I just-I need to be honest...but it's hard and I don't want to hurt you-"

"Honey you could never-"

"Or disappointment you."

"Henry," I sigh heavily, reaching between us to grasp his pointed chin and demand his full attention. "You could never disappoint me or hurt me. Just please, be honest," I plead even though I'm certain I do not want to hear anything he's about to say if it's going to ruin my future, yet again.

"Okay, please don't be mad," he begs, his dark eyes swelling with fear.

"I promise."

"I want to travel to different realms to find my story," he blurts out, like the words have been burning his tongue his whole life.

My hand slips away from his chin from pure shock and he stiffens beside me out of fear from what I might rebuttal. I swallow thickly, cringing inwardly at that awful bitter taste crawling up my throat.

"Please listen, I've brought back everyone's happy endings here. There's hundreds of stories, each story having another version depending on the country and yet, I'm not in any of them and I'm the _author_," he stresses bitterly. "My story is out there and I want-no mom, I _need_ to find it. There has to be so much more to my life than recording other people's happily ever afters and I need to go out there and search for it because I know in my heart it's not going to find me here in Storybrooke."

I'm quiet, I know I'm too quiet for this time when my son is pouring his heart out, but nothing is coming to my mind. I can't deny him his opportunity to find his future when I've done everything in my power to find mine. I can't forbid him to go, because not only would that not do me any good, but I also refuse to be the unsupportive mother like Cora.

All my brain can do in this moment is think of my beautiful baby boy as a toddler and long for those days once again. His pudgy fingers clinging to my face so he can plant a sloppy wet kiss to my lips. His adorable Batman pajamas that he insisted on sleeping in every night. The way he would crawl into my bed every morning at six a.m. with his blanket and favorite stuffed monkey and curl into my side and sleep another hour with me. Whenever he was finished eating he would wave his hands in the air and wait for me to wipe him clean before he went anywhere.

My heart constricts brutally as scolding hot tears well up in my eyes at all those precious memories that are just that now, distant memories.

"Mom, please say something," he urges, a terrifying wobble evident in his voice.

"Is that why you broke up with Violet?" My voice cracks and I have to sniffle away the damn tears threatening to fall.

"Yeah. Like I said, I care about her, but she isn't my happy ending and I know it's out there. I just need to go out there and find it myself."

"And Emma? Snow? David? Have you discussed this with them?"

"Not yet, no. You're my mom and I thought you deserved to be the first to know," he sadly replies, but there's a faint smile poking at his mouth that swells my heart with love and affection for just my son.

"I love you, Henry. I do-"

"But-" he deflates immediately and I sense that's he's expecting me to fight him on this.

"No, but's," I firmly state, "I love you and as much as this kills me, I support your decision."

"Seriously?" He balks, his eyes doubling in size.

"Yes, honey. I know what it's like first hand to have a mother that isn't supportive and is constantly trying to dictate your life and I refuse to do the same to you. You are my son, and I love you and support you, no matter what," I confirm with conviction.

"Thanks mom," Henry lunges forward wrapping his arms securely around my neck. "This means so much to me."

"Well, whatever you need," I choke on my words knowing this is the beginning to an end and hold him even closer, "I am here for you," I vow, a few tears finally rolling down my cheeks and landing upon his shoulder.

"Tiny gave me a magic bean," he says, pulling away from my embrace and further breaking my heart. "Please don't cry, mom."

"How can I not," I flash him a crooked smile and wipe away my tears. "You're my only child and my one and only opportunity to have a baby. I'm going to miss you." I lean forward, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek and he never once pulls away.

"I love you, mom and you know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't feel it in my heart."

"I know, honey. I understand, believe me, I do." I finish wiping away the last of my tears and muster up as much positive energy as possible to put on my best brave face. "So, when are you leaving?"

He swallows, his face falls and turns a grayish hue instantly. I hold my breath while every organ in my body stops functioning because I'm just waiting for the blow to come that will inevitably knock me off my feet.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Can't you wait until the end of the summer?" And there are those damn tears floating right back up to the brim.

"I can't. It's now or never. I can't wait any longer. I'm going to Emma's tonight to talk to her, then to grandma and grandpa's and then I'm going to stop at Violet's to say goodbye."

"That's why you wanted to do all those abnormal things in California," I finally connect the last dot in my head and sigh heavily, thinking back on how determined he was to experience new things.

"Yeah, some last stuff before I head off to a new realm where that stuff doesn't exist anymore," he shrugs and offers one last sweet smile. "You know I love you though, right? And I'm so thankful for this trip together."

"I wish I would have known it was our last hurrah," I sadly confess, peering deep into those forest green eyes to memorize them one last time.

"I know, but then you and ma would've been so sad the whole trip and I didn't want that. I wanted us to really enjoy ourselves and live life to its fullest on that trip."

"Well, I had a wonderful time and those memories I will cherish forever."

"Who knows, maybe one day I'll find my way back to Storybrooke for a visit," he smiles so confidently and for the first time, I know in my heart that he's going to be just fine.

"I should get going. I have a feeling grandma's not going to take the news so well," he laughs the wholesome chuckle that I am going to drive myself insane from not hearing every day.

"You're right, maybe drag Emma along to help convince Snow that everything will be alright."

He stands up from the couch and smiles so brightly down upon me before he places a small kiss to my cheek and sweeps out the door like he's just leaving for a friend's house and not at all like he's leaving my life forever.

XXXXXXXXX 

The sun is shining down on my son like he's in some play with a spotlight illuminating his loving face. He's smiling back at me and I know he's not just happy, but he's content in life now, knowing he's made the right decision for his future.

"I love you, mom," he says one last time over the roaring engine of his motorcycle.

My feet shuffle forward to hold him just one last time. "I love you, too," I breathlessly confess, knowing this could be the last time we ever speak.

My son breathes out a small chuckle through his nose before we both stare ahead at the red and orange portal just waiting to steal my son away from me. Henry lifts his feet off the steady ground below and easily rides away toward his future.

These damn insistent tears fill my eyes yet again as I watch my baby disappear from view, like he was never even here. One by one, tear after tear tumble down my cheeks while I cry for my son and I cry for all the times I could have made his life better and I sob for all the memories that I will cherish forever.

Somewhere behind me, the faint sounds of rubber tires slowly rolling against the concrete resonates, but I ignore it all and focus on the spot that just stole my son away. A car door gently closes and the sound of heavy feet trampling behind me, I know all too well who it is. My skin crawls in anticipation because it's been seven days and I haven't a clue why she is just now showing up.

But of course, Emma Swan shows up now, in true Savior fashion, when I'm at my lowest point and most vulnerable. So she can swoop in and save the day, just like nature intended. It takes every ounce of my good morals to keep me from spinning around on my heels and lash out on her just to relieve some of this tension building deep within.

"Hi," she softly murmurs like she's unsure if she should even be here and my mind is stumbling back to the first time we ever met and that same, soft spoken, _hi_, that changed my life forever. I cannot find the strength to reply, so I remain there, in the middle of the street, begging the tears to go away. "Is he gone?"

"Y-yes."

"I couldn't do it," she sighs heavily, her warm presence lingering so close to my back that I can almost feel her weight. "I couldn't watch him leave, that's why I said goodbye last night." I sniffle in a lame attempt to stop my crying, but I can't risk speaking and breaking down all over again. "We will see him again, I promise," she whispers, her cold fingertips curling around my bicep before her chin rests on my shoulder.

Her warm breath brushes against my ear causing a tremor to ripple down my spine, but I hold my composure. Her touch is more than just comforting, it's everything that washes away every bit of pain and leaves warm love in it's awake and I can't force myself to break away. Not yet.

"How did everything go?" I suddenly blurt out.

"Why don't we go inside," she softly recommends and I'm not sure if I enjoy the thought of being alone or dread the idea because she could very well be dragging me inside to break my heart in private.

I don't say a word in response, because my feet are already trekking against the brick path that leads to my home. Despite my intestines coiling so tight that my body wishes to double over in pain, I still imagine my seven year old son skipping down this pathway, ecstatic to divulge on all his secrets from school that day. I smile at the fading memory and wish for my son to return home, someday.

Emma follows closely behind, shutting the door behind her and quickly trailing in my footsteps into my home office. We both sit down on the couch, nervously facing one another. I plead with my fingers to stop fidgeting, but the unknown is slowly torturing my soul. Emma lifts one leg onto the couch and picks at her boot for a distraction.

"So, why are you here?" I coldly interrogate, already becoming defensive to protect myself from what's to come.

"Seriously?" Her enticing green eyes flick to mine in annoyance, but I remain calm. "Our son just left. I figured you needed some company."

"I haven't heard from you in a week."

Those gorgeous eyes roll, along with her head from the amount of aggravation radiating off of her. "I told you this was going to happen and you agreed. We needed space to clear all of this."

"And? What is your status now?"

"Well, when I left here last week, I went straight home and told him the truth-"

"The whole truth?" I quickly interrupt, my heart ceasing in my chest from the thought of that sniveling man knowing the details of my life.

"Yes," she swallows, her eyes casting down in shame. "I told him that I am not in love with him anymore and that he needed to pack his stuff and leave. I confessed what happened on the trip-"

"So, he knows you-"

"Don't say cheated, because I didn't cheat. Our marriage was long over," she firmly demands. "But yes, I told him that things progressed between us and that I was in love with you."

"I need to know if you told him we slept together."

"He knows, Regina. I was completely honest with him." She sighs like this is breaking her heart just as much as Hook's. "He has packed all his stuff and has officially moved out," she exhales in relief.

"Are you sure? It's all over?"

"Yes," she breathes, scooting closer into my personal space causing my entire body to go rigid from her proximity. "I have been honest with you from the start of this and I plan on continuing that," she smiles, inching her way closer. "Him and I are history."

"Sometimes history repeats itself," I boldly rebuttal, even though my eyes are fixated on her delectable little lips.

"True," she shrugs noncommittally, stealing the last bit of space between us. Those green eye flick to mine with lust beating recklessly in them. "But, why turn back time and suffer through the dark storm when I have such a bright future ahead?" With that, she lightly presses her lips to mine and inhales sharply, as if she's attempting to breathe all of me in.

I smile into the kiss, knowing how content she is whenever her lips are against mine. Ever so slowly I part her lips and explore her mouth like this is my first time ever. The couch creeks as Emma greedily pushes forward for more, her body guiding mine down into the cushions below.

My fingers glide across her soft cheeks and hold her face close as her body rests on top of mine. Even though my heart is pounding violently and my entire body is tingling for more I peck her lips and gently end the kiss.

"As much as this kills me to say, I think we should take things slow." Emma rests her forehead against mine, her eyes fluttering closed as she calms herself. "You are finally single and I think that's something you shouldn't take lightly. You shouldn't be jumping into a relationship with me."

"I know," she whines, fighting her inner turmoil between her wants and needs. "You're right, but I don't want to stay away."

My thumbs carefully caress her cheeks, hopefully expressing my true feelings for her. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not sure if you noticed, but there isn't a line of men waiting at my door to court me," I sarcastically quip, creating an adorable chuckle to escape that pretty little mouth of hers.

"I don't know why, have you seen you?"

"Even if they were, none are deemed worthy in my eyes," I vow, pecking her lips just once more.

"I know you're right, but can we still...hang out?"

"What does this 'hanging out' entail?" I playfully inquire, treading my fingertips through her silky strands.

"I don't know, maybe you could come over for dinner and we could just talk, I feel like there's so much more to you that I have yet to learn," she explains, lightly dragging her lips against mine.

"Oh you have no idea," I growl, creating a sweet vibration humming deliciously between our chests. "I think that is something we can accomplish."

"Maybe we can sneak out for a midnight stroll through the woods, discussing magic and my favorite guilty pleasure movies."

"Do you have a soft spot for cheesy romantic films?" I question teasingly, my fingers curling a chunk of hair behind her ear.

"Maybe, but if memory serves me correctly, you have a secret passion for superheroes," she slyly comments, her dopey grin sliding right into place.

"Well it seems your memory is serving poorly-"

"Henry told me," she firmly declares, cutting me off instantly.

"I suddenly have a change of heart, this will never work, we have nothing in common," I flatly reply, but she just laughs in return and crashes her lips eagerly against mine.

And we may or may not spend the rest of the afternoon laughing with our lips constantly brushing against each other's like they were always meant to be molded together as one.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

After Emma and I spent an afternoon on my couch, we spent the next six days apart, allowing each other space and time to heal. However, I did bump into her at Granny's a few random days during the week around lunch time. We shared a soft smile, and small conversation mostly about missing our son, nothing too incriminating.

Emma would send me messages late at night, checking up on me while also updating me on her life. She would drop little hints on how she's ready for the next step; stating that although she is sad her marriage came to an end so soon, she is also relieved she doesn't have to live that lie anymore. We usually spend most nights sending friendly and sometimes flirty and daring messages which help ease the loneliness in my oversized mansion.

Most days I stay far away from home knowing it's just a constant reminder taunting me that my son left. I tend to fill the hours with the sun present, in my office, working later and later to keep my mind busy. I've even accepted a dinner with Snow and another with my sister just to avoid my home. I'm not sure if they see the pain in my eyes and their invites are just for pity, but at this point I'm willing to accept just about anything to keep my mind off the fact that I may never see my child again.

This evening, I found myself exhausted and alone, stumbling into Granny's from the lack of motivation to cook myself dinner. I had already ordered and claimed a seat at the counter while I waited.

"How about a cup of coffee?" Granny kindly offers with her pot already slicing through the air toward my mug.

"I rather not have anymore caffeine to keep me up this evening," I tiredly reply, suppressing a persistent yawn that has traveled with me all damn day.

"Yeah, and I rather not see that sourpuss expression in my diner again," she grumbles, pouring the steaming cup with expertise. I just glare at the woman, but am too exhausted to open my mouth and slay her with a sarcastic quip. "You're really having a hard time adjusting without Henry, huh?"

She abruptly spins around and violently shoves the coffee pot onto its burner before turning back around to face me. She places her hand upon her hip and peers at me over her framed glasses with a stern look that informs me that I need to start talking.

"Of course I do, he's my son," I exasperate, but there just isn't any bite left in my tone.

"Hey, I know how it is. Or did you forget that Ruby left Storybrooke as well, never to be seen or heard from again?" She barks right back, never being one to back down from a snippy remark.

"Technically, we did see Ruby again and we told you that she is doing just fine in Oz with Dorothy. Henry showed you the page from his book and all."

"I know, but that still doesn't help the fact that I miss her everyday and that you all got to see her, but I didn't."

"I understand," I sadly reply, because now I can sympathize with the woman.

"It does get easier though," she concludes, snatching the dish rag upon her shoulder and wiping down the counter before me. "Just one day at a time."

The little bell above her door chimes as another person comes breezing in for the night and just like everyone always does in this town, they all peek to catch a glimpse of who's entering. I, on the other hand, don't have enough energy to lift my head or even care at this point who's waltzing in.

"Maybe you should lean on a friend who's going through the same thing," Granny remarks, catching my attention.

I peer through my eyelashes and watch as Granny nods her head toward the door. I sigh heavily and take a chance, peeking over my shoulder to find the one person who can definitely turn my mood around.

Emma's already strutting confidently toward the counter with her tight dark denim jeans clinging to her thick thighs and a plain black t-shirt that is cut rather low, highlighting her wonderful assets that she's kept hidden away for far too many years to count now. Her hair is styled with those full curls that remind me of those days that she would stand up to me and pick a fight just for the adrenaline rush of it all.

Unexpectedly, my heart is hammering against my sternum dangerously and my palms are becoming slick with sweat. When our eyes meet, I find that wildfire that used to burn bright in her eyes and my heart swells with pride. Emma's back. The crazy, cocky, daring woman that stole my heart so many years ago is back and just as confident as ever.

I smirk as she slides onto the stool beside me and strums her fingers against the counter. "Well hello, Madam Mayor," she snarks like she's about to challenge me again, creating a delicious rush of shivers to trickle down my spine.

"Miss Swan," I curtly reply with a subtle head nod.

"Madam Mayor? Miss Swan? What the hell are you two fighting about now? You two are exhausting!" Granny growls, slinging her towel over her shoulder again and storming off.

Emma snickers before turning her attention toward me. "Well at least people won't suspect if they assume we are fighting again."

"Indeed. What brings you here this evening?" I inquire, slowly sipping my coffee as though I'm uninterested in her answer.

"Dinner. I'm too lazy to cook," her nose scrunches in that adorable way that reminds me of the ten year old version of our son.

"As am I."

"Hey, I never got to see those baby pictures of Henry before he left, like he promised," she quickly changes the subject, catching me off guard.

"Oh."

The night of Emma's admission about not owning one baby picture of herself comes shuffling vividly back into my mind. Those big sappy eyes full of heartache and sorrow of a terrible childhood, flash before my eyes and before I can take my next breath, words are sputtering from my mouth.

"Would you like to come this evening? I can pull them out of the basement if you'd like?"

"Yeah," a delirious smile stretches painfully into her cheeks as she nods along. "I would love that."

"Well, why don't you order something and take it to go, we can have dinner at my place and then find those boxes," I calmly suggest, even though my skin is already itching to be up against hers again and my lips are tingling from a wordless promise of a night filled with frantic kisses.

"That sounds perfect." A mischievous twinkle in her eye sparkles before she leans over the counter and calls for Granny.

XXXXXXXX

After Emma and I receive our food we decide the evening is just too perfect to pass up a nice walk home. The stars seem to be burning brighter this evening, lighting up our path home while the warm evening air settles into our bones and forces our feet to take slower steps.

"So, are you glad to be back or do you miss Cali?" Emma starts the conversation, slowly swinging her bag of food as we walk side by side.

"I miss California for the simple fact that it had Henry," I softly divulge, watching our feet connect with the black road below.

"Yeah, I miss him too. I never thought I would miss his feet banging on each step as he ran down the stairs."

"I know exactly what you mean," I roll my eyes, but there's a faint smile breaking out across my lips at the memory of my son. "I absolutely hated when he would do that, but now I wish for those days back."

"We will see him again someday," she confidently claims, but then she falls silent and there's this awful tension forming between us like someone is placing brick after cold, hard, brick between us. "Hey, I-uh, have to tell you something."

"Alright," I reply even though my stomach is doubling over, because I can see that look on her face and she feels guilty about something.

"I-I didn't tell Henry about Hook and I. I didn't want him to worry and change his plans because he was concerned about me," she begins to explain.

"Okay..."

"And when Henry came by to tell me, Hook was there, moving his stuff, but luckily, Henry didn't see any boxes lying around. Anyways, when he told us, I excused ourselves and asked Hook not to say anything and he agreed. Uh, he also gave him a message in a bottle that was enchanted. Anytime, Henry ever needs us, all he has to do is say our names into the bottle and it will inform Killian."

I swallow thickly, as annoyed as I maybe with Emma and Hook lying to Henry, I'm glad that my son has a way to communicate with us if he ever finds himself in a horrible predicament.

"Well, I'm happy living off the hope that we will see our son again."

"Me, too," she breathes her relief before we fall silent again.

A comfortable silence as we walk side by side down the streets of Storybrooke, enjoying the lovely evening without any villains lurking around the corner. My mind begins to wander to the time when I will finally meet my son again, wondering how many years we must suffer through? Will he be married? Will he have children? Where will I even be in that many years? Then something eerie slithers into my mind and forces me to speak.

"So, if Henry calls for our help in ten years...are you still going to lie and pretend you are with Hook?"

Emma's head whips so fast to glare at me, her thick curls bouncing across her shoulders from the force. "No," she spits in disgust. "I would explain to Henry the truth then. I mean who knows where you and I will be in ten years."

"You think we will be together in ten years?" I question, startled by her admission.

"Well, no, no I don't mean no, I don't know. I just, I don't know where I will be or where you might be...separate...or possibly together. I-I don't know-"

"Emma, breathe," I deadpan as she spirals nervously through her answer. "So long as you promise not to lie to our son anymore."

"I won't," she whispers like a scolded child, still swinging her bag nervously.

I unlock my gate and hold it open for her to walk through. She offers me a shy smile as we walk up the brick path toward my front door and enter. She closes the door behind us as we kick off our shoes and move on to the kitchen.

We settle down at the table, unpack our dinners and sit down across from one another.

"No grilled cheese?" I tease playfully, corking up one eyebrow as I bite around my forkful of salad.

"No, I'm starving today," she mumbles before inhaling a bite of her bacon cheeseburger. She chews, not nearly enough and swallows down her enormous bite. "Aren't you tired of salads?" She questions, dipping an onion ring into a pile of ketchup and shoving it into her mouth.

"I don't think I ate one salad on our vacation, I need to start eating healthy again."

"Regina, that was almost three weeks ago now. Besides, you're more than healthy," she states as her eyes sweep up and down my body shamelessly.

"You were blinded by lust to notice the details of my body," I rebuttal, just to pick a fight with her for fun.

"I was not," she protests, tossing down her over sized burger. "I know exactly what I saw and believe me, any girl would kill to have a body like yours." My cheeks flare up with a scorching heat, so I hide my face and focus on my salad. "You're blushing, Madam Mayor," she sing songs in the most condescending tone.

"I can assure you I am not. It's just warm in here," I lie through my teeth as I jab my fork into my salad and ignore her cocky grin at all costs.

"Hmmm," she hums around a bite of burger and smiles that shit eating grin. "If it's warm in here, please make yourself more comfortable," she devilishly winks and I know exactly where her mind is headed.

"Eat your burger, Miss Swan. You have done nothing of the sort to win a peek of this," I gesture down my body while she chuckles into another obnoxious bite of greasy meat.

"We will see about that," she laughs playfully.

XXXXXXXXX

Once Emma and I finished up our dinner, we made our way into the basement in search of Henry's baby boxes. I was rifling through box after box, reading the labels while Emma took it upon herself to open a few and dig through them.

"Oh my god," she gushes from behind me as I set down another box.

"What?" I breathe over my shoulder and blow a few loose strands away from my face.

"This is so freaking cute!" I glance over my shoulder to find her holding up a fluffy gray onesie with little ears on top. "Is it a raccoon?"

I smile at the memory of Henry always giggling whenever I would pull the hood over his head while facing a mirror so he could see himself.

"Yes, he was about six months when he wore that," I confirm before shuffling through the boxes again.

"I think I have fake memories of him wearing something similar, maybe a different animal?" She mindlessly rambles as her fingers gently absorb the soft touch of fabric. "I hate how they are starting to fade. I could use them now more than ever."

"I'm surprised they are fading, they were implanted as memories," I huff as I pull out a rather heavy box and toss it onto the floor beside me. "Here, I think this is it..." I say mostly to myself as I fall to my knees and pry the box open.

"I know, right? But I think subconsciously, I started to force myself not to think about those memories once I learned that they were all fake, it wasn't real. Nothing was, and I guess I was a little bitter about it so maybe I pushed those thoughts aside."

"Emma," I carefully begin, knowing this conversation can go one of two ways; she either lashes out irrational or she understands and thanks me.

"What's wrong?" She sadly frowns, the onesie slipping away from her chest and landing in her lap, but she never lets go of the material.

"There's something I need to confess."

"Okay," she scoots a little closer on her knees and rests her hand upon my thigh for comfort.

"Those memories of Henry's childhood, of you raising him, those aren't fake...per say..."

"What are you talking about? Of course they are fake, I gave Henry up, I never raised him," she firmly demands and the pain in her eyes is almost too much to bear.

"Yes, while that maybe true, it still doesn't negate the fact that those memories of Henry are all true. Every detail is everything I remember from raising him. I just replaced myself with you."

"Seriously?" She squawks in disbelief.

"Yes, everything that you remember happening with Henry, did happen, they just happened with me. I wanted you to know the real him, so I gave you every memory I have of him."

I hardly finish my explanation before she lunges forward and grabs onto my face, slamming her lips so desperately against mine. She tugs my face closer, like she's trying to drink all of me in and it's impossible to suppress the small moan that escapes my throat.

"Thank you," she mutters into our kiss, before she slowly peels her lips away and rests her forehead against mine. I curl my fingers around her wrists and hold her into place, never wanting to ever let her go. "Thank you," she repeats with all the gratitude one human can convey in a simple phrase.

"Of course, Emma, I love you."

"I love you, too, more than I could ever explain," she breathlessly whispers before she falls back to her previous position beside me.

"Well, how about we dig through these pictures and refresh those memories. Mine and yours," I smile as she nods along, reclaiming that adorable onesie again in her lap.

I pull out the first photo album on top, which is smaller than the rest and peek inside. A picture of Henry in a football uniform is the first thing I see. "These are when Henry's older," I comment and hand the book to Emma. "That was Halloween when he was eight. I know he really wanted to go as The Hulk, but he thought the kids at school would make fun of him."

"I remember that, I-uh-well you, fought him so hard saying it doesn't matter what other people think of you..."

"That's right, it only matters how highly you think of yourself," I finish and continue digging toward the bottom for younger pictures of Henry. "Ah, here's his first year," I acknowledge, opening a rather big baby book, painted in a light blue with a satin ribbon.

"You know, my memories told me that all these pictures burned in a fire, that's why I didn't have them with me in New York."

"Well they are right here anytime you need them," I confirm, sliding the book between us.

"Look how chubby he was!"

"I know," I smile like a lunatic at his pudgy cheeks smiling wide back at us. "That boy could eat."

"He would screech so loud if we didn't feed him fast enough," Emma giggles, running a finger over our son's messy face full of spaghetti sauce.

"Ugh," I groan, remembering the memory like it was yesterday, "remember how he would bang on his highchair while he waited for the meal to finish preparing?"

"Yes," Emma happily confirms, turning the next page. "He was so...rambunctious."

"He was, but he was also the best little snuggler," I sadly admit, peering down at the most adorable picture of Henry fast asleep upon my chest.

"Who took this picture?" Emma questions, pulling the picture closer to her face to inspect the details of myself on the couch with Henry.

"I did."

"Ah, you were snapping selfies before they were cool, huh?" She nudges my arm playfully while I roll my eyes at her teasing ways.

"Yes, it's not like I had many friends and I wanted to capture every moment with my son and I."

"I'm glad you did," she quickly responds, examining the picture all over again. "You look so adorable with a baby on your chest."

Icy cold tingles snake down my spine generating a tremor to involuntarily wrack my body. Her bold compliments are still foreign to me and I have to remind myself to not jump so blindly into this with her. So, I clear my throat and try to change the subject.

"I know there's a picture in here somewhere of him in my stilettos," I state as I reach for another book.

"I remember that, I could not find him for the life of me and he-"

"Was hidden away in my closet with my heels on and a purse hanging around his neck," we both laugh at the adorable memory as I breeze through a different album. "I think he was three, maybe four."

"Here, it is," Emma excitedly slides an album onto my lap and leans heavily into my side. "He was super cute."

"Well, those freckles upon his nose really made all the ladies swoon like his mother," I boldly say, leaning in even closer to her warmth.

"I miss those freckles. How old would you say he was when they disappeared?"

"Completely disappeared? Maybe thirteen," I shrug. "He still had a few when he brought you to Storybrooke."

"I remember," she smiles, her fingers lightly dancing across the old photos. "When he showed up I remember thinking this kid is all Neal, but he has my freckles."

"And your chin, and your mouth, and your smile," I laugh while she nods along happily accepting the compliment.

"And all _your_ sass and whits and brains," she adds on persuading my heart to beat just a little faster for her.

"Thank you," I whisper, because it's hard to see myself in him sometimes with his biological mother always around.

"Don't thank me," she mutters as she captures my lips for a short but sweet kiss. "Regina?"

"Hmm?" I hum against her mouth, my eyes falling closed to take in this perfect moment between us.

"Have you ever thought about having more children?" My eyes snap back to life as my spine straightens as though someone shoved a pole down my back. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," I shake my head and turn the page, focusing on Henry's fourth birthday party. "Not at all."

"Okay...so...can you answer my question?"

"Well, I actually can't have any children of my own."

"Oh, I'm so so sorry, I didn't-"

"It's alright," I place my hand upon her thigh to express that she doesn't need to keep apologizing for something she didn't do. "My mother wanted me to have children and I didn't want her corrupting them like she did to me, so I drank a potion that made me barren. That's why I adopted Henry, well that and because I could never reproduce with anyone in this town."

Only half of her mouth curls into a weak smile before she presses her lips against mine again.

"I'm so sorry for everything your mother put you through."

"Please don't apologize, it's all in the past now," I tap her thigh, urging her to move on, but she doesn't take the hint.

"So, would you ever consider adopting again?"

My lips twist as I contemplate the thought. When the idea of her and Hook raising a baby together was mentioned, I was sick to my stomach thinking about her parenting with someone else and I just don't think my heart would be in it without her.

"I'm not sure to be honest. I guess it all depends on my future," I vaguely reply because I cannot mention the idea of us raising a baby together right now when we hardly even begun dating.

"I would want another chance, with the right person," she claims with a hint of insinuation, but I won't allow myself to dwell on it and become too lost in the moment.

"Look," I quickly change the subject and point to another baby picture.

"I loved that Batman pajama set, it was the cutest," she gushes, stealing the photo album from my lap.

"I think I have it somewhere in one of these boxes," I comment, shuffling on my knees to another box marked baby clothes.

"I would love to see it."

The moment I open the box, I discover Henry's blue baby blanket and his favorite stuffed monkey. Tears fill my eyes again as I reach inside and carefully pull them out.

"Emma," I sigh, holding them close to my chest.

"Awww, remember when he would climb into bed and snuggle for another hour," she sadly replies while I nod along, allowing a few tears to fall for my baby boy. "He was so sweet, Regina."

"He really was," I agree, offering Emma the stuffed animal in which she quickly snatches up and inspects the droopy face that has been washed and dragged around too many times.

"Remember when he got sick on this monkey?"

"I had to wash him and Henry was running such a high fever and he cried the whole time that damn monkey was in the wash."

Emma breathes out a laugh through her nose and sighs, still assessing the stuffed animal. "I miss him," she mindlessly mumbles.

I crawl over to her spot on the floor and gently brush my lips against hers. "I miss him too, but at least we have each other to get through this."


	18. Chapter Eighteen

The following week, Emma was making herself more consistent in my life. By Tuesday, she invited me over to her house for dinner. I was skeptical at first on what she might be whipping together, but then I remembered her delicious homemade soup in California and all my fears about the sheriff's cooking skills went out the window.

Emma must have spent the entire day slaving away over the stove, because when I arrived, there was a savory roasted garlic chicken with homemade mashed potatoes and an assortment of perfectly steamed vegetables. I was actually in shock by the mouth watering food spread across her table like a feast.

We spent the evening in a steady conversation over our dinner discussing the less depressing memories of our childhood. Emma spoke about her adventurous side where she would climb trees and scrape up her knees. She even showed off a scar embedded deep into her knee from a bunch of rocks that were so cruelly placed at a bottom of a slide for the next poor child that came down. I divulged on more time spent with my father, especially all the heart to heart talks where he would fill me in on all his little secrets about life and what makes the world go round.

After dinner, Emma explained everything about Netflix and even though I'm very well rounded in modern technology, this was something I never had in my home. Even though I do enjoy watching movies and shows with Henry, whenever I am alone, I usually spend my time reading.

Emma put on some show for us to watch, but we both became quickly distracted by more stories of our past. We spent the rest of the evening curled up on her couch, face to face with our knees touching as we discussed everything we could think of, until I left around midnight.

When Thursday rolled around, Emma unexpectedly showed up in my office with lunch. A kale salad for old times sake she claimed as she plopped down in the chair across from my desk. So, we shared lunch, mostly discussing work related items and how we still feel it's necessary to hide our casual dating from the nosy citizens of Storybrooke.

Saturday was spent like every Saturday, cleaning my house that doesn't need to be cleaned and then joining the Charming's for dinner at Granny's. It was painful to pretend that everything was just how it normally was between Emma and I. Her wandering eyes did not go unnoticed all through dinner and was causing every fiber in my body to itch with desire of just being close to her.

I did my very best to distract myself from the gorgeous blonde eyeing me all through dinner with her longing looks and playful smirks and busied myself with playing with Neal. He is always such an adorable toddler, filled with playful giggles and whenever he's around I'm reminded of how much I miss being a mother.

By the following week, my phone was constantly filled with adorable messages asking about my day or wishing a good morning or good night. There were a few times she would attempt to engage in topics that were a bit risqué at the moment so I would decline that idea rather quickly.

I invited her over Wednesday evening for dinner in which she demanded that I prepare my specialty, lasagna. After dinner, she set up Netflix in my living room and this time we did spend the evening watching some of her favorite shows. She insisted that I watch one episode from various shows so I could make a proper decision on which show we should 'binge' next, as she called it.

When the following Saturday arrived, we spent the evening with her family at Granny's again and then she followed me home for a drink. I extended the invitation to allow her to stay the night, in which she did and I was soon relieved and yet disappointed when she didn't push for anything but a few kisses.

The morning rolled around very quickly and I found myself tangled in a mess of long limbs and even longer hair.

Gently, my index finger reaches out to brush away the golden mane shielding her face from my greedy eyes. Her face is buried deep against my shoulder while her arm is slung around my midsection. Her hot breath is slowly coating my skin in a steady rhythm that makes my heart ache because I wish I could wake up like this every morning.

"Go back to sleep," the muffled grumble vibrates against my shoulder persuading my lips to reveal a small chuckle.

I flip onto my side and scoot a little further down into the heat pulsating around this woman and place a delicate kiss to her forehead. Emma's arm tightens around my ribs and tugs me in even closer while her eyes stay firmly shut.

My fingers glide against her warm cheek, across her strong jawline and down her neck where I sweep away more of her unruly tresses. A lazy smile lingers upon her lips, still stuck between dreamland and reality.

"Sleep," she mumbles incoherently and blindly stretches her lips forward, connecting unconsciously with the tip of my nose.

"I can't, I'm sorry, you can go back to bed," I softly offer.

"Can't." One green eye peeks through her squinting lid, provoking her smile to grow even wider. "I can't sleep when people watch me," she replies through her thick, sleep induced voice. "If kids were watching you sleep in foster homes, it meant they were up to no good. Probably wake up with your hand in a bucket of water and your pants soaked in urine." My noses scrunches in distaste while her one eye drifts closed again. "Not that that ever happened to me," she flippantly adds on.

"I can assure you the last thing I want you to do in this bed is urinate," I huff in annoyance.

"Don't say urinate, it's weird coming from your mouth," she flatly replies, her lips reaching out to peck my nose again.

"You're the one that brought it up," I teasingly argue and smile when she nuzzles in even closer to my face.

"Ssshhhh, it's quiet time Madam Mayor," she mocks just before she captures my lips in a firm kiss.

I watch for a second, as her eyes are peaceful closed with her hair a wild mess all around us and her mouth is demanding that I shut up and kiss her back, and I swear I'm falling in love with her all over again. It's all still so new and we have yet to sleep together again, but I'm learning all these new things about her and these private little moments where she's unguarded and I can finally be myself and relax are far more intimate than us naked and working for the next climax.

Emma's hand presses into my back as she guides my lips apart and pushes for more. I panic for a split second, worried that I have yet to brush my teeth, but then that thought vanishes when her hot tongue slips into my mouth and I'm reminded again just how much I must love her if I'm so willing to share a kiss with morning breath and not be repulsed by the concept.

All too quickly, Emma is breaking apart the kiss and leaning on one elbow to hover over me with a serious glint in her eyes.

"Are you not ready for more?" She timidly questions, those green orbs shifting frantically all around my face for an unspoken answer.

"It's not that I'm not ready, I'm just not comfortable with the idea until those divorce papers are signed."

"Oh," she softly smiles and leans down for a quick peck. "It should be any day now, Hook has them, he just needs to sign them."

"I know," I softly reply, reaching in the minimal space between us to tuck a chunk of hair behind her ear. A broad grin that threatens to split her face right in half appears. "What?" I ask cocking my head to the side in confusion.

"You're so soft," she chuckles.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You put on a great show, don't get me wrong, of the snarky Evil Queen, but deep down, under all those extravagant dresses and mayoral smart suits, you're just a big softy," she muses, resting her forehead against mine with that stupid grin consuming her entire face.

"I should have your tongue for a remark like that," I coldly reply.

"Do it," she challenges, poking the tip of her tongue out and wetting my own lips in the process.

"Don't test me, Miss Swan."

"You won't do it, you big softy," she chuckles before licking up my lips across my nose until I shriek and attempt to wiggle free.

"You are disgusting," I growl in annoyance, but she just laughs and thrusts her hips forward to distract me. "No pancakes for you this morning," I firmly declare.

"That's okay, I wanted French Toast anyways," she laughs again like a small child and my heart swells with eternal love.

"No, now you get nothing."

"Please," she whines, interlocking our fingers and pinning my hands to the mattress below. Her lips ever so delicately brush against mine as she teasingly grinds her lower half against me. "I'll cut up some strawberries and you could make the French Toast," she whispers against my lips as though she's divulging in some dirty little fantasy of hers and it's so hard to suppress my smile. "And then, I'll spread Nutella on the French Toast and sprinkle on the strawberries and top it with whipped cream," she husks, squeezing my hands tightly.

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

"I do," she drags her lips against mine, never truly kissing me, "you tell me all the time." I roll my eyes and attempt to wiggle free.

"Up," I strictly demand.

"No, not until you promise that breakfast, I'm starving."

"You're always starving."

"I can honestly say I've never been this hungry before in my life. I feel like I could pass out from the lack of food in my system."

"Now who's being melodramatic?" I sarcastically quip and wrestle my way out from under her. "Come on, lets make breakfast."

XXXXXXXXX

Of course this woman would insist on playing some terrible music from the nineties and early 2,000's while we prepare our breakfast. She's singing softly to herself as she chops the strawberries and I flip the French Toast on the skillet.

"Emma, can you hand me a plate please?" I call over my shoulder, but when I'm greeted with silence I peek over at her.

Emma's eyes are screwed painfully tight while her knuckles are as white as snow as she holds onto the counter for dear life, the requested plate right by her hand.

"Emma? Are you okay?" I tenderly inquire, lowering the heat on the stove and rushing to her side.

"Yeah," she croaks out, inhaling a sharp breath and slowly releasing it before she pries her eyes open. "I just got dizzy for a second."

"Why don't you sit down, I'll get you some water-"

"No, no, I'm fine now," she smiles weakly and offers the dish from before. "Here."

I glance down at the plate and quickly snap my attention back to her complexion that is noticeably paler than usual. "Emma you look very pale, are you sure you feel well?"

I reach into the space between us and clamp my hand over her forehead. "Regina, please," she carefully removes my hand and smiles. "I promise I'm fine. I just got lightheaded and dizzy for a second, but I'm fine now. Maybe I am hungrier than I thought," she shrugs noncommittally and ends the conversation by continuing her task.

I sigh heavily, take the plate I needed and remove the cooked French Toast without another word on her dizzy spell.

I plate the golden brown bread while Emma decorates them in Nutella drizzle, fresh cut strawberries and little dollops of fluffy whipped cream. We sit down at the kitchen island together with our coffee mugs and quickly dive in.

"I can't believe you are actually eating this?" Emma chuckles, swinging her feet beneath the stool like a child, a very endearing action that I adore.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, you just come off as the type of person who is all salads, fruits and veggies. Not much of a sweet tooth or carbs for that matter," she shrugs, stuffing a mess of food into her mouth.

"I actually have a sweet tooth, I just don't always cave to it's every desire. Actually, I usually enjoy eating something sweet for breakfast so I can burn off those calories and then I eat healthier the rest of the day."

"Huh. I never would have suspected."

"Granny's apple pancakes are actually my guilty pleasure. During the curse, I would always splurge on them, knowing time was standing still and the curse was working in my favor to keep me young and fit."

Emma swallows her bite and chuckles, wiping her mouth free from the chocolate goo coating her lips. "That's smart. I like your thinking."

I smirk and happily dig my fork into the sweet breakfast, but out of the corner of my eye, I observe Emma swaying just a little bit in her seat. She gently places her fork down and moves to sip her coffee.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course," it's a blatant lie to my face so I don't push anymore, but I watch her carefully as I eat.

And she doesn't. She picks up her fork again and pushes the food around her plate, never taking another bite or saying a word. Her coffee goes untouched as well so I decide to open my mouth again.

"You hardly ate."

"I'm not hungry."

"You were whining this morning about how starving you were."

"I know, I'm full now."

"Emma-"

"I'm fine," she coldly demands, sliding off her stool and clearing her plate away. "Are you done?" She kindly asks as I nod and she gathers up my dirty dish as well.

I watch from over the rim of my coffee cup as she rinses our dishes thoroughly and places them into the dishwasher. Her face is a slight gray hue and I'm quite certain she's about to be sick.

"Emma, I can take care of that," I offer, sliding off my stool and meeting her at my sink. "Why don't you go back upstairs to lay down and I'll be up in a few minutes?"

She doesn't argue, which is so unlike her. Instead she smiles weakly and kisses my cheek before she is up the stairs and a door is closing. I sigh, wishing she would just tell me what's wrong, but I know Emma and she never wants to appear weak and I can't really blame her when I suffer from the same stupidity.

XXXXXXXX

After the dishes were scrubbed cleaned and put away, I made my way back upstairs to my bedroom. When I enter, Emma is wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets. I smile to myself and decide since it's Sunday, we are allowed to be lazy. We don't have to be at work today and we don't have a son to take care of anymore.

I slip under the covers and scoot right up against Emma's long back. There's a soft, faint snoring, which I assume Henry inherited from her and I know she's fast asleep again. I smile to myself, wrap my arm around her torso and bury my nose into her vanilla scented locks.

I know she expressed how tired she was this morning and I woke her up, but I have an inkling she's not feeling well. However her body doesn't feel over heated and she doesn't sound like she's coming down with anything at all. So, I just hold her close, even though I'm not tired anymore and just listen to the steady rhythm of her breathing as she sleeps.

And she sleeps the rest of the morning away. Finally, I magic myself one of my books and turn on my back to catch up on my reading. She must sense that I have drifted away, because she immediately spins around and cuddles into my side. Her leg hazardously is thrown across my legs, her warm core presses into my hip, her arm drapes around my stomach and tugs me closer while she buries her face into my neck. She exhales slowly, like she finally feels safe and content in this world, provoking my lips to press against her forehead before I begin reading.

She sleeps the afternoon away and even though I'm restless and my body is itching to move around and accomplish something today, I cannot find the will to break this intimate moment. I've waited eight years for this woman to be in my bed and here she is and even though she's sound asleep I don't mind. Just having her resting peacefully into my side is more than I could ever ask for and I refuse to leave this bed without her today.

Around two thirty, she stirs, stretching her long limbs and groaning like she hasn't slept in years. Her lips are molded into a perfect angelic smile before her eyes even open. She places a kiss to my shoulder as her eyelashes flutter to life.

"Hey," she groggily greets me with a sappy grin spreading wildly.

"It's nice to know you're alive. I was worried someone slipped you a sleeping curse."

She chuckles, stretching her body again and cuddling right back into my side. "What time is it?"

"Two-thirty," I calmly reply, turning the page in my book.

"Oh my god, seriously? I haven't slept this late since my long stakeout nights during my bail bonds days."

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" I ask, placing my book down on the mattress and offering my undivided attention.

"Besides the fact that I could eat an entire cow right now? Yes, I'm fine."

"Are you complaining about being hungry again when you tossed your entire breakfast away after begging me to cook it?" I sternly question to coax her into opening up.

"I'm sorry," she pouts out her bottom lip and kisses my shoulder again. "I swear I feel fine." I roll my eyes, but she kisses my shoulder again, inevitably ebbing away my frustrations toward her. "How about Granny's? I could use a fat burger and onion rings."

"Are you hungover?" I mock.

"God, I felt like it this morning, but no, I'm good now. Come on, let's get up lazy pants," she jokes swatting at my outer thigh playfully and clambering out of my bed, popping the intimate bubble that I never wish to leave.

Ever again.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

"_Are you still coming by tonight_?" Emma's message lights up my phone while I try to focus on my last little bit of work.

I smile down at the device and quickly snatch it up, my fingers quickly dancing across the screen.

"_I will be there after work, I should be leaving here around five. Are you cooking tonight_?"

I hardly have a minute to myself before she's messaging me back.

"_No, I'm too tired tonight to cook. I just stopped at the store after work, but I'm leaving now and I just want to relax._"

"_Alright, well I can stop at Granny's on the way to your house. Would you like a burger and onion rings again?"_

I question knowing that it's either the greasy burger or something with syrup as of lately.

"_I was thinking Granny's special French Toast_..."

"_Again...are you sure you're alright_?"

"_I'm fine! Can't a girl pig out on French Toast for dinner_?"

I roll my eyes at Emma's text and toss my phone aside. To say the sheriff has been acting strange this past week is an understatement. For a brief moment I panicked, assuming she was pregnant by her constant sleeping and odd eating patterns, but I sat back and logically processed my thoughts.

It's been six weeks since we were in California and she hasn't slept with the pirate since we've been back. She claims that they hadn't slept together for months before that, so if she was pregnant with his baby, she would be showing already and she most certainly isn't.

Even though we have yet to sleep together again, she still undresses in front of me when she stays the night at my house. Not to mention, my fingers have mapped out every inch of her bare skin by now and there's nothing there, but firm muscles.

My phone buzzes again, but I ignore the message and focus on my work. I have another hour of diligent work before I can leave with a good conscience and stop at Granny's for her famous Challah French Toast that Emma is whining about.

My phones buzzes for the second time, so I open my drawer and toss it inside. I roll my stiff neck and begin typing away at my computer to finish up whatever insignificant emails from citizens like Leroy who is still requesting a casino be built.

After forty-five minutes of uninterrupted work, my phone alerts me again that I have a needy Savior. I roll my eyes and angrily rip open my drawer to discover her calling me this time instead of texting. I sigh and quickly answer the call, wedging the device between my shoulder and ear so I can continue typing.

"Miss Swan, I am not sure if you are aware, however, delivering for Granny is not a duty under my mayoral title," I snark, smiling playfully into the phone.

"Regina, it's Henry. You need to come over now," she gasps into the phone, smacking the smug smirk off my face and causing my magic to react on pure instinct.

My heart leaps to my throat as a wild cloud of purple smoke envelops my body and transports me directly into Emma's living room. When I arrive with my phone clenched between my fist, I observe Emma pacing frantically in her living room with Hook.

The former pirate is gripping a small bottle between his good hand, and for a moment I believe he might shatter the damn thing from the snarl upon his face. I force my eyes to crawl away from his ill tempered face and focus on the bottle.

"Did Henry send you a message in a bottle?" I obviously remark, nodding toward the pirate's clenched fist.

"Regina," Emma gasps, rushing to my side.

I blink, observing the way her hair is extra wild like she's been running her fingers anxiously through it all damn day. Her face is even paler than it has been all week and she looks like she might be sick all over again.

"Emma," I cautiously begin, petrified of what disheartening information I might find out about our son if she appears this disheveled. "What's wrong? Where's Henry?"

"He's in another realm and he needs our help," she blurts out, but there's a shortage of breath like she just ran a marathon or maybe because she's been arguing with Hook.

"Aye, I received the message not too long ago and then I came here," Hook adds on and to my surprise he sounds a lot calmer than his scowling appearance.

"Well," I clear my throat and swallow my pride, "thank you Hook for coming here and informing us."

"Despite everything, I still care for the boy, he was my stepson once."

"I know, Killian," Emma sighs and the guilt twisting in her face produces a scolding hot pain to stab through my gut. Something's off. "I tried getting ahold of you, but you weren't answering. Anyways, I spoke to Tiny, he has a magic bean for us. We just have to swing by and pick it up and then we can go help Henry."

"No, we've already been through this," Hook firmly demands, catching me completely off guard. "Regina and I will use the bean, rescue Henry and we will be back before you know it."

My entire faces contorts painfully in perplexed bewilderment by his idiotic plan. "What the hell are you talking about? Why on Earth would just you and I go and not Emma?"

"Regina," Emma softly interjects, placing her hand on my arm and it's in that moment, I know. I know the truth and I know the harsh reality that's to follow and brutally stomp away all my hopes and dreams for a better future. "I-I just found out two hours ago, I swear-"

"Say it," I coldly remark, daring her to continue with the truth that will forever wreck us.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers, shattering my fragile heart like broken glass free falling from the top of the clock tower and creating that awful acidic taste of vile to crawl up my throat.

"I found the test in her bathroom. Please tell me, _Your Majesty_," Hook spits in disgust, "that you agree that she needs to protect the baby and stay here. We don't know what kind of danger Henry maybe in and we can't risk loosing the baby."

"Killian, please," Emma pleads with her ex, sounding so much smaller than in the past eight years that I've known her and I swear I can feel her pain cracking and seeping into my heart. "Something doesn't add up here-"

"Swan, I swear to god if you tell me that you slept with another man-"

"No! I did not! I would never do that," she growls back at him while I stand there, desperately struggling to follow their conversation.

Everything around me feels like it's tipped on its axis, violently spinning passed me while I attempt to grasp onto anything to keep me grounded and now I know exactly what Emma was rambling on about in California.

Their voices sound muffled and distant as I blink rapidly through my tears, refusing to allow either of them see me break down. I grind my teeth and fight every instinct to wring Hook's neck because _again_, he wins everything and I am left with nothing.

"Regina, please, I-" she reaches out for me, but I snatch my arm away in disgust.

"I don't have time for any of this right now. I need to go to Tiny's, claim that bean and find my son," I coldly command.

"_Our_ son!" She firmly demands, stomping an assertive foot forward. "We need to talk about this, it doesn't make sense-"

"No, it makes perfect sense, obviously you slept with Captain Guyliner when we came back from California and that's probably why you were so distant that first week we came back."

"I did not! Ask Killian-"

"The last thing I need right now, is this fight and a worthless pirate's confirmation," I growl, lowering my voice into my most threatening tone, because after all of this I just want to lash out irrational, but I can't.

She's pregnant and despite it all, I would never want to harm that innocent baby. My magic is pulsating just below my flesh, rising my temperatures deep inside to boiling point and I know I have to keep my distance before I lose control.

"Regina, stop it! I did not sleep with Killian when we got back!"

"Then you lied when you said you hadn't slept with him in months, because clearly you are pregnant."

I brush passed her, ready to storm out that door when I should just poof myself away. Maybe I want to fight with her just a little more to release this anger pounding murderously inside of me or maybe I'm just not ready to say goodbye to her just yet. Either way, I know I'm lingering, waiting for some solution to mend this broken relationship, even if I believe in my heart that nothing can fix this now.

She steps in front of the door with her hands help up in surrender, and those big green eyes shimmering with thick regretful tears. I have to look away, because if I don't, I'll cave and jerk her into my arms.

"Please, Regina, there's some sort of mistake."

"There's no mistake Miss Swan, _he_ is the last man you slept with, clearly you are not familiar with simple human anatomy, but there is no other option."

I move to step around her and catch out of the corner of my eye as Hook is standing there awkwardly, with his head hanging low. I was expecting this man to be standing there, smug and fully proud of himself for trapping Emma once again to be only his, but I don't see anything but pain on his face. His hand is nervously spinning the bottle between his fingers as he stares aimlessly at the ground, like he wants a portal to open up and swallow him whole.

"Regina, please," she whispers so tenderly, demanding my full attention and like a fool that I am for her, I meet her sorrowful gaze, "something doesn't make sense, the timing it's all off, I-"

"Did you even see a doctor, yet? You said yourself that you just took the test two hours ago, you don't even know how far along you are," I argue, trying my hardest to sound emotionless, but it's so hard when I know how close we were to our happy ending.

I know she holds my heart and there's nobody else that can evaporate all my past pain with one single kiss like her delicate lips. There's nobody that walks this planet that can ever make me feel so safe and so secure than when I am near her and nobody ever will.

And for a split second, I lie to myself and say that everything will work out in the end and maybe just maybe we could share custody with the ship obsessed man and he will visit his child on weekends while Emma and I raise another child together.

Yet, in my heart I know that's not the right thing to do. The innocent baby deserves a family with his or hers, mother and father and deep, deep down, I know Emma would want that for her child as well. She comes from a broken home and I know she would try her hardest and work things out with Killian for her baby even if that means sacrificing her happy ending.

"Regina, please. I have an idea of how far along I am and I swear something just-maybe there's something in one of your books-"

"Emma, I can't do this with you right now, _our_ son is in danger. I am going to get the bean from Tiny and then I will meet you two at the wishing well in twenty minutes. Don't be late or I will leave without you," I sternly delegate, forcing myself to not stare too far into those enticing eyes filled with unshed tears of gut wrenching pain.

I flick my wrists, begging my insides to stop the involuntary tremors as I transport myself to Tiny's cabin, just outside the woods.

The sun is just beginning to descend and in spite of the summer evening air, there's a snippy wind whirling around me and somehow I just assume it's my damp storm cloud that seems to follow my life everywhere now.

My heels snap loudly against the rustic wood as I climb the front porch. Without a moment of hesitation, I am beating fiercely against the rundown, wooden door. Tiny's a kind and gentle soul, so why he chose to live isolated from our small town is beyond me.

The front door swings open, reveling a cheerful smile that slowly falls when his mind registers my face. Ah, that's right, this is why he lives on the outskirts of town, he still doesn't trust anyone, but Emma.

"Mayor Mills," he gruffly greets me.

"Hello Tiny, I'm here for the magic bean you promised Emma."

"I promised, _Emma_," he emphasizes, gripping his door painfully tight.

"I know, but I am here for her. You know it's to save Henry," I softly plead with the regular sized giant.

"Okay, but only for Henry." He reaches into his pocket and smiles brightly. "He's a good kid, so here's two beans, bring him home, okay?" He hopefully says with his entire face beaming with excitement.

"I swear, I'm going to try." I quickly snatch the beans from his hand and gently cup his cheek with my other hand. "Thank you, I cannot express how grateful I am for this. If you ever need anything-"

"I know," he smiles as he pats my hand resting against his cheek. "Now go get 'em!"

I nod curtly and quickly flick my wrists sending me straight to the wishing well. I quickly scramble for my phone in my dress pants, and note that I have five minutes before I am allowed to leave like I threatened.

Five minutes alone, does absolutely nothing in my benefit, but allow me to suffer from the heartache I just endured. My shoulders sag in defeat before I clench my fists and press them firmly against my eyes, pleading with myself not to cry.

_Dammit_! She said it herself, I'm the villain and she's the Savior, we were destined to be fighters, not lovers. We were never meant to be. We were never meant for anything more than destruction and I swear I've never felt a pain more soul crushing than this right here.

I would have sacrificed anything to have another child with Emma and now my worst fear is coming true, she's conceived with that sniveling pirate that never deserved anything from her. She will move on in her life, bonding with Hook in a way that only the love of a child can create and they will happily mend their relationship. And-_oh_ _god_-if Henry decides to stay in this realm and never rejoin us in Storybrooke, I will forever be forced to watch the love of my life married and raising a child with someone new.

The echoing of crunching leaves and twigs snapping through the darkening woods, shreds through my worst nightmare, however that nightmare has now become my reality. My head snaps to attention to discover Hook, trekking through the woods, alone. My heart sinks, he did it, that bastard convinced her to stay with him and remain locked up in her house away from...me.

"Where is Emma?" I bark out, as he steps over a rather large log and holds his sword into place against his hip.

"Don't play the fool, you know bloody well that she shouldn't be dragged into this mess when we haven't a clue as to what lies ahead," he sneers in my direction. "She's safe, at home, where she belongs."

"And you think you really have any right to make that decision?" I vocalize because I cannot withhold the anger pulsating through my veins any longer.

"I have as much right as she does, that's half my child and I _will_ protect him or her with my _life_," he breathes a fiery passion that resembles the man I met so long ago.

The pirate, Captain Hook, not this weak tea version, Killian, that I've been forced to befriend here in Storybrooke.

He steps forward in challenge, but I have never been one to back down, so I step forward as well, glaring up at him with all the hate and darkness I have ever faced, because he was able to give Emma something I never could. A part of him and a part of her and that's just something I can't offer.

"Now, I suggest we bury this all aside right now, paint on our best brave faces and save Henry," he assertively commands, taking me by surprise for the second time tonight, because I truly thought he was planning on arguing some more with me.

"Agreed," I coldly reply and reach into my blazer pocket.

My heart pounds unexpectedly to a new beat, one that's full of anticipation of what's to come, but mostly for the idea of seeing my son again after six treacherous weeks apart. My thumb mindlessly rubs the glittering bean before I toss it into the air and dream of my son in my arms again.

A blazing ring of fire, much like Henry's portal when he left a few weeks ago, appears, spinning violently. Red and orange sparks hazardously spew from the brightly lit ring, taking Hook and I by surprise. He glances my way, his face expressing determination and all his rage from earlier is wiped away. I nod curtly, persuading his feet to shuffle toward the portal.

I take one last deep breath as we both sprint forward and jump right through the portal that will hopefully lead us straight to Henry.


	20. Chapter Twenty

The funneling whirlwind engulfs Hook and I and before we can even inhale our next breath we find ourselves in what seems to be a run down bedroom. Hook takes the lead, jumping in front of me while I notice over his shoulder, a man, tied up on a bed with a woman in an extravagant pink dress before him. Immediately, I am brought back to my life in the Enchanted Forest and wherever we have landed resembles my past life.

Without a moment of delay, Hook steps to my right roughly throwing is entire weight to knock one guard over before he jumps to my left knocking the next guard with his elbow before he brutally jabs his sword right through the man's chest. My eyes are glued to the young man, struggling with his bound wrists on the bed, while the first guard attacks Hook, but the former pirate quickly runs his blade easily through his heart and heaves a breath of relief.

"Get away from him, now," Hook forcefully commands as I step beside him.

"Who are you?" The strange woman inquires, stepping forward.

"I'm his mother," I growl, my left hand instinctively jutting forward to blast my son's captor with magic.

The woman effortlessly flies through the air and crashes against the far wall, knocking her out cold.

"Good to see you're still in one piece lad," Hook cheerfully greets Henry, his feet eagerly shuffling forward to help loosen the bonds behind his back.

I stand behind, blinking through my shock at this man before me. Clearly, Hook knows this is Henry and I know this is Henry, but...he's a _man_. He left six weeks ago, my little boy, just graduating from high school and this is just not the same person anymore.

"Thanks, me too," Henry breathes out in relief as Hook slices through the thick ropes trapping my son.

"And am I bloody glad that you sent this," Hook adds on, dangling the message in a bottle up for Henry to see.

"That makes two of us."

Henry and Hook both laugh as they share a grateful, yet, loving hug. Both men slap each other's back, chuckling in their male bravado while I sit back and watch this man who is suppose to be my son, because my mind can not grasp the concept.

"Mom," Henry sighs as he turns his attention toward me and I choke on my words. The emotions building far too quickly to suppress any longer. My eyes instantly fill with tears, inspecting this strange man before me. "It's okay, I'm fine," his face sudden falls, knowing how worried I must be for him.

"Oh Henry, you," I attempt to take a step forward, but somehow my feet are filled with lead. "You grew up," I blurt out through an awkward laugh as my mind reels with so many unanswered questions.

"I did."

"You look good," I compliment my son and finally my feet are moving forward and my hands are already finding their home upon my son's familiar cheeks. "I just-"

"I know, I know," he sputters, tugging me into a hug that feels strange from his new height and broad shoulders, yet familiar at the same time because he's still, forever my baby boy. "I missed you too."

"As much as I love hugs and tears, can we do it outside the torture chamber?" Hook sarcastically quips, heading straight for the door.

"Yeah, yeah, but hey, where's my other mom?" Henry suspiciously questions as he pulls away from my arms.

Hook abruptly turns around. "Emma? Well, she's back in Storybrooke," my face falls and all those raging feelings of anger come thumping back beneath my skin with vengeance. "She's fighting a swarm of tiny, irritating dragons. Nothing she can't handle," he lies through his teeth with his charming smirk plastered across his deceiving stupid pirate face.

"That sounds like Mom, okay come on, come on, let's go," Henry excitedly bounces out of the room to lead the way and that's when I spot my son hiding away in this grown man.

"What the hell was that?" I interrogate the moment my son is out of earshot range. Hook rolls his eyes as he slowly turns around to engage in a conversation he obviously doesn't want to have again. The irritation radiating off this former villain is tangible, but I press on. "Why did you just lie to Henry?" I accusingly question after Emma and I specifically agreed not to lie to our son anymore.

"Because that's what Emma wanted." I sigh, my eyes falling closed to calm the boiling rage deep within. "If he knew what really happened, he'd drop everything and come back. She wants to let him get on with his life."

"Well I think she's wrong," I conceitedly reply, holding my chin up high.

"Well that's not your decision," he slowly articulates to stress his point, even though he's remarkably calm in the moment. "We have to respect Emma's wishes," he states, ending the conversation completely as he spins around and heads for the door.

Effectively leaving me more irritated and furious than ever.

XXXXXXXXX 

After trying to convince Hook to speak with Henry in private so he could maybe tell him the truth about Emma and that he has a sibling on the way, he quickly refused and left Henry and I alone so he could search for Cinderella.

My son escorts me back to his home, which resembles a little cottage and soon I find out that this place is exactly like the Enchanted Forest. No plumping, no electricity, no running water. I sigh heavily, because I never thought I would end up back in a place like this again.

Henry rushes to create a marvelous fire, which I stand back and watch with pride as he effortlessly produces roaring flames, just like I taught him no more then six weeks ago, but to him...

"Henry?"

"Yeah mom," he calls over his shoulder as he rearranges a few logs.

"How long have you been here?" I tentatively inquire, terrified of what answer might come spewing so casually from his mouth.

"What?" He chuckles, brushing off his knees as he stands so much taller than I ever thought imaginable, and turns around to face me.

"How long has it been since you left Storybrooke?"

Henry frowns, his feet rushing forward as his long fingers reach out and grab hold of my shoulders. His knees slightly bend so he can peer into my eyes and my heart aches seeing him at this age, whatever age this is.

"Mom, you feeling alright? I left Storybrooke ten years ago. Did you hit your head?" He teases, but I can't find the energy to laugh after the hell I've been beat down and dragged through today. My eyes fill instantly with tears while my nose tingles from the sob that's ready to come pouring out. "What? Mom, you're scaring me. What's wrong?" He frantically questions as his grip tightens around my shoulders.

"Oh honey," I choke on the words as a few persistent tears glide down my cheeks. "You just left Storybrooke six weeks ago."

"What?" He shrieks in surprise while my fingers curl around his wrists, never wanting to let him go again.

"We just got back from California, you've only been gone six weeks and here...here you lived ten years already?" My hot tears, burn a path as they trail down my face, leaving streaks behind in their awake.

"How is that possible?"

"Some realms just move differently in time, Henry," I shrug my shoulders and stretch on my tip toes to pull him into another overbearing hug.

Henry pulls away, offering a sad smile before he settles down at his kitchen table or what appears to be one, while I magic a pot with some soup and begin to bring the dinner to a boil over his roaring fire. I'm just realizing after all this stress, I haven't had a chance to eat yet. I never even brought Emma her special French Toast from Granny's like she had asked for.

My mind starts spinning, with a vicious pang of guilt, wondering if she's even eaten yet or if she's too upset about our fight, or her fight with Hook. Maybe she's crying over the baby or crying over our son, knowing she can't help him right now when Henry has always been her main concern in life.

"So, tell me about home. How is it back there?" Henry unexpectedly fishes for some information, startling me from my wandering thoughts of his other mother.

"Archie's seeing business go down because, well," I muster up my fakest cheerful grin, "all those _happy_ endings, but on the flip side, his wedding officiating has gone way up," I playfully tease in hopes that my son won't see through my torment and latest travesty.

Henry smiles in return and presses for more just like he has always done. "My family? Grandma, grandpa?"

"Eh, as you can imagine, sickeningly happy," I joke while he smirks and nods along.

I stare into my pot, praying he won't resume this torture, and continue to stir our dinner. That's when his stern voice washes over me and I tense up automatically under the pressure.

"You left out one person," I swallow thickly and avoid his eyes, hoping he doesn't ask about his other mother again. "You," he softly finishes. "How are you, mom?"

I force myself to meet his worried eyes so he doesn't continue speculating or grow suspicious. "I-I'm fine," I flippantly reply, my hand instinctively waving nervously in the air.

"Mom," he sighs, silently pleading for me to divulge a little more into my life.

"I miss you," I blurt out on reflex and it's not a lie per say, but it's a damn easy way to cover up the mess unraveling at home.

"I know, I miss you, too. I do."

I hastily whip back around to our dinner and mentally plead with him to please stop asking questions. "And Emma? Everything's good with her?"

For fuck's sake.

"Mmmm." I cannot find the strength to lie to my son anymore.

"What? Is something going on with her-"

"She's fine," I quickly place the wooden spoon down and meet my son at the table, claiming the seat across from him. My face scrunches up as I try to force back the truth. "Enough about us. I want to hear more about you. About _your_ story...it appears, it's been...interesting?"

I smile hopefully, gathering his big, strong hands into mine and sigh, remembering his little pudgy fingers that used to fit so perfectly in my hands. _He's a man now._

My son begins to explain about Cinderella and how he is so unsure of her feelings for him as he doubts himself. We don't fall too deeply into the conversation because Hook rudely interrupts, claiming he found Cinderella and confirming my son's worst fears of rejection. However, I'm more concerned by the odd behavior rippling off the former pirate. This isn't him and I know he's acting strange.

Henry suddenly storms off, so I suggest Hook follows him to have a heart to heart and maybe now Captain Guyliner will find his _jewels_ and tell my son the truth about Emma's pregnancy.

I patiently wait inside, deciding to busy myself with the soup I am preparing just to keep my mind busy. I'm sure Emma could use a nice, steaming bowl of this soup to help soothe her stomach. I know she's been feeling queasy as of lately, even if she denied the accusation repeatedly to my face.

How could I have been so stupid? Of course she is pregnant and I knew it, I knew it in my heart and soul and desperately tried to be blissfully ignorant to the signs screaming in my face. She swears up and down that she didn't sleep with Hook before or after the trip, but here she is, carrying a baby and just everything about the situation is all wrong.

"Oh my god, look at you!" Her playfully, warming voice carries through from outside into the cabin and immediately stops my beating heart.

I quickly rush to the door, carefully cracking the heavy wood open just to catch a glimpse to confirm that I am not going crazy and hearing her voice in my head, and to make sure she's physically here. _What the hell is she_ _doing here?_

"I know, it's been awhile," Henry breathes into her shoulder.

"I've missed you, kid," I sigh, slowly closing the door to make sure I don't make a sound. My eyes fall closed as I listen through the door as she rambles on and then comes the words that have broken my heart for good earlier this evening. "I'm pregnant."

My forehead rests against the door as I listen to Henry express his excitement for his mother and new sibling and I'm aching all over wishing I could be out there with her. It should've been me, not Hook. Emma and I should be gushing over a new baby _together_.

"...we've both made mistakes and we both can learn from them and we both can do something good from the start," Emma rambles and she sounds so frantic and so unsure of her words and I know that woman better than I know anyone and she's scrambling for words for our son's sake.

There's a moment of hushed whispers and I'm not quite sure what is conspiring out there under the starry night sky, but then I hear Emma calling for her husband. Heavy footsteps are rapidly growing louder so I rush back to my soup knowing my son is approaching.

"Hey mom, ma showed up!" Henry enthusiastically cheers as he closes the door behind himself. "Why didn't you tell me she's pregnant?" He inquires, his cheeks embedded deep with a broad, toothy grin.

"It wasn't my secret to tell," I whisper, swallowing down my self loathing and the tears begging to be released again.

"I'm so glad she showed up, it's good to see her, too." I just nod, my eyes glued to the large spiral noddles that my son loves in his soup, the same soup Emma made for me a few weeks ago. "Mom, aren't you excited? I bet she'll make you godmother!"

My stomach plummets, a wave of nausea consumes every inch of my body and I have to force myself to stay upright. _Oh god_-the thought of being the baby's godmother instead of a second mother shatters my heart far worse than I could have ever expected.

"Maybe, anyways, tell me all about this realm," I quickly change the subject and thankfully my son takes the bait.

XXXXXXXXX 

It wasn't long before Emma showed up with two identical versions of Captain Hook, explaining like a mad woman about how one is from the Wish Realm that her and I visited awhile ago. That was exactly why Hook was acting so strange earlier, apparently it was his alternative clone. After that I truly stopped listening because I had more important things on my mind.

"We should be heading back," the Hook from Storybrooke suggests as I begin pouring my soup into a bowl for Henry.

"Awe, come on, can't you guys at least stay the night? I miss you, all of you," Henry whines in that old familiar voice that reminds me of a time when he was only ten, running around like a spy to break the curse.

Emma glances my way with a sympathetic smile on her face and I know she's wordlessly checking for my opinion on the matter. I shrug, and place the bowl down in front of my son, trying so hard not to make eye contact with her.

"We can stay the night, kid."

"You think that's a good idea? With you being pregnant and all?" The other Hook chimes in provoking my eyes to roll in annoyance.

"Not you, too. It's bad enough I have one Killian worrying about me, I don't need two," she teases and everyone chuckles along except for me.

My teeth sink into the thin flesh on the inside of my bottom lip to keep my snarky comments trapped inside the prison of my mouth and serve Emma a bowl of soup as well.

"Thank you," she whispers as though she's petrified of her own voice. "I'm starving," she mutters into her bowl as she moves the ingredients around with her spoon.

I only nod curtly and move to prepare my own dinner. The room falls silent as I carry my bowl to the table and sit across from Henry since Emma is right beside him, forcing me into a seat beside Hook.

"No soup for me, even though I saved your ass today?" He bitterly questions, inspiring my head to snap in his direction.

"I could have easily handled those two guards on my own, besides you don't need anyone else stroking your ego, you do that enough," I quip.

Hook growls under his breath, but I ignore him and the rest of the house falls silent from the unbearable tension radiating off of everyone except for Henry.

"I can make you a bowl," Emma softly offers, but I'm quick to interject that option.

"He has a hand, he can figure it out on his own."

"Regina-" she pleads, but Hook is already standing up from the table, scraping his wooden chair against the wooden planks below.

"It's fine Emma, she's right, I can manage on my own. I should know better by now that the Evil Queen only has the Savior in mind," he spits in disgust, stomping his way toward the pot of soup.

"Killian," Emma sighs.

I recklessly toss down my spoon, completely loosing my appetite from this constant bickering from today.

"What's going on?" Henry asks, but all three of us yell, _nothing_, in return, confirming that something is obviously wrong.

"I need to take a walk," I mumble under my breath and force myself up from the table, even though I hate to leave my son right now because I just want to soak him up before we leave in the morning.

"Regina-"

"No Swan," I object when I notice her moving to follow my lead. "Eat, your baby is probably starving. I'm sure you didn't eat this morning from your morning sickness."

I don't bother looking in her direction because I know what I will find, those sad puppy dog eyes filled with regret and shame and I just can't see that look anymore. So, I quickly rush out the door and take a few minutes to myself to cool down.

XXXXXXXXX 

"So, Cinderella," Emma says in disbelief. "Hmm, I wonder what Ashley will think when I tell her you are after another version of herself."

Henry chuckles and tries to hide the blush creeping up his neck, painting his cheeks and burning the tips of his ears. "Please don't."

"Why? What's there to be embarrassed about?" Emma laughs, lightly shoving our son as we all sit around his table.

"Nothing," he shrugs, but the deep scarlet tinge refuses to leave his cheeks.

"Awe, did you have a school boy crush on Ashley back in Storybrooke?" His birth mother teases with a goofy grin spreading across her entire face, just like she always does whenever she teases our son.

"No!"

"Yes, you did!" Emma barks out a laugh that even inspires Hook's sour mood to evaporate and laugh along with them.

"Ma, stop. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Please don't remind us," I groan, fiddling with my nails to keep myself preoccupied.

"I'm twenty-eight now."

"Ugh, just keep adding salt to our wound," Emma rolls her eyes as she rests her side heavily into Henry's strong shoulder.

"I think we should call it a night," Storybrooke's Hook recommends. "Regina, do you think you can poof Emma something more comfortable to sleep on."

"I'm fine really-" but before she can finish her rejection, I materialize four cots in Henry's tiny cabin for all his guests.

"Thank you," both Hooks say in unison, but I don't reply.

Instead, I focus on slipping into my bed for the night and beg my brain to stop pounding with too many screeching thoughts on what's to become of Emma and I.

XXXXXXXXX 

I haven't slept one wink and I can just feel the nervous tension pulsating like a steady heart beat beside my bed from the anxious blonde. I just stare aimlessly at the wooden planks above my head, watching as the dimly lit fire ripples a shadow against the ceiling. I'm practically counting the seconds for when I'll be home and won't be stuck in a room with Emma and her ex-husband.

I feel her presence before I register her fingers lightly shaking me. "Regina?"

I close my eyes and count to ten to keep my temper in check. "What, Swan?" I whisper in a low tone.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't," I firmly demand in a hushed voice, abruptly spinning around on my cot to offer her a cold shoulder.

"Regina, please talk to me." Her fingers press into my back and too many wonderful memories of waking up with her holding me in the morning come flooding back like a tsunami, drowning out any rational thoughts I have left. "Please."

"Fine," I grumble, tossing the blanket from my body and climbing angrily out of bed.

Emma leads the way, both of us tip toeing through the small cabin, hoping we don't disturb any of the men. We slip out the door and move far enough away from the cabin so the people inside can't hear our fight that's inevitably coming.

The air is bitter cold, cruelly whipping around us and causing us both to shudder. I can hardly identify a thing from the pitch darkness surrounding us, so I magic a roaring fire that instantly warms our bones and lights up our faces.

"What?" I snap, folding my arms protectively across my chest to keep my heart safe from the pain she is about to unleash. "You dragged me out here, so what?"

"Regina, please. You have to believe me, something is off. It doesn't make sense that Killian is the father."

"There's no other option Swan, we've been through this."

"But maybe, like..." her hands are moving wildly like she's struggling to reach out and just grab hold of a reason that's floating passed her. "Ugh, doesn't stuff like this happen in the Enchanted Forest? I mean I'm the product of true love, would it be crazy to think like..."

"What are you trying to say, Emma? Yes, you were the product of true love but your parents still had sex to conceive you."

"Let's not talk about my parents in that way," she scrunches up her adorable freckled nose that's bright red from the cool evening air.

"You brought them up."

"Anyways, I don't know, could maybe a baby be created another way in your realm?" She timidly questions, her insecurities shaking fiercely in her voice.

"Magic babies? I suppose that is possible. There are a few out there, but Emma you have to understand, all of them were created in the Enchanted Forest, with two very powerful people who not only had magic, but also possessed true love and we," I gesture frantically between us to stress my point, "we don't have any of those things."

"We have magic," she weakly defends.

"We didn't the only time we slept together. We were in a land without magic _and_ we are not _true loves_," I mock, rolling my eyes and hating how cruel I sound, but my heart aches, wishing we were destined for each other, that we are true loves.

"But you-"

"Emma it's not possible and that baby deserves a happy home."

"I know, but-"

"No, but's. I can't be the reason your child grows up without its mother and father under one roof. I refuse to be the reason why that innocent baby comes from a broken home."

She's just a blur standing before me now, because the tears are clinging to my eyes, determined not to fall. However, she's standing in front of me and her tears are streaming down her face as she listens to my rejection.

"I can't destroy another happy ending. I just can't be that person anyone," I choke on my words and all too quickly a sob rips through my throat and my tears finally spill down my cheeks.

"You won't though. You know I wasn't happy with him. I wanted you," she pleads, reaching for my hand to soothe her pain, but I can't be that person she needs anymore, so I dodge her touch.

"But I also know that you and Hook can work it out for the baby," I nod toward her stomach and she instinctively places her hands over her stomach. "If I eliminate myself from the equation you can focus on that baby and Hook and you can be happy."

"She's right love," Hook chimes in out of nowhere, promoting my hands to quickly wipe away my tears so he won't use them against me.

"Killian," Emma breathes out through a heavy cry, while I turn my back because I cannot stomach the view of them together.

"I'm willing to work on us, for the baby," Killian softly whispers causing chills to run up and down my spine in a torturing manner.

"But you know how I feel," Emma hiccups, sniffling through the blubbering mess upon her face.

"I know, but our baby deserves a happy home. We all came from horrible childhoods and I don't want that for our baby. I'm willing to try if you are," he begs Emma for another chance.

I place my hand over my mouth to keep my sob inside and close my eyes, knowing that I'm making the right choice for that baby by stepping aside.

"I-I just," her words trail off and I know she's loosing her willpower to fight any longer. "Please Regina-"

"Go home with your husband, Emma," I sadly reply, "make a fresh start with your baby."

"Regina, I," and I know she's hovering right behind me, I can almost feel her magic darkening and lingering like a gray storm cloud.

"Please, don't say it," I beg of her, "it will only make it harder." I squeeze my eyes closed and wait for the footsteps shuffling against the dirt and back toward the cottage.

When I know I am alone, my knees finally buckle under the stress from all day and I cave. I sob in a strange forest, all alone, mourning the happy ending that was so close I could practically taste it.

XXXXXXXXX 

Everyone in the cottage woke up when the sun did that morning. Hook and Emma were ready to leave while new Hook and Henry were ready to start their next adventure together. As I held my son close and said my goodbye, he offered me a lifeline, saving me from drowning in my sorrows. He asked if I wanted to stay with him, claiming that my own story was not complete yet. It only took my brain a half of a second to respond, yes, knowing I couldn't go home alone and watch Emma and Hook raise this baby together. At least now I will have happiness with my son.

Emma and Hook say their goodbyes to Henry, Emma needing an extra hug as Hook tosses the magic bean a few feet ahead. I mask all my emotions so my son doesn't learn the truth of mine and Emma's destructive love affair. The Savior glances back at me like her mouth is just dying to pop open and spew those three simple words, so I take a step back. Wordlessly expressing that I don't have the strength to say goodbye.

Sparkling green eyes fill with tears as her bottom lip trembles violently and she fights back the sob just screaming to be set free. The fiery portal opens up, whipping her messy hair in disarray all around her face, but she hardly notices because her attention is between Henry and I.

I nod in her direction, offering her what little support I have left to encourage her to find her happiness with the new baby. Hook places his hand over her abdomen and my chest tightens, stealing all the air within my lungs. Emma glances back at me again as I sigh and those eyes are just pleading with me to stop her, but I can't be the reason for that baby's unhappiness.

Hook wraps his arm around her lower back and sweeps her away, both dissolving instantly from life never to be seen or heard from again...

_A/N: And that is the conclusion of the first half. I really hope you guys are enjoying this story so far. There's plenty more to come! Everything that occurred during season seven still applies to this story now, everything except one tiny detail. I can't wait to share the next half. I would just like to explain that I wrote this story not only because I was inspired by Zelena's mention of a graduation trip, but also because I hated how the show made Emma and Regina so awkward in season seven when Emma announced her pregnancy. I thought it was awful, because even if you are not a SQ shipper, you cannot deny that these two women became good friends and coparented well with Henry in the end. Emma would have at least said take care of Henry and Regina probably would have said I always do, goodbye Miss Swan. But to have them say nothing at all, was ridiculous. So, I came up with an explanation as to why no words were exchanged and why it was so uncomfortable and why Emma was at the coronation with Hook even though she is adamant that he is not Hope's father. I wanted to rectify the actual storyline of the show. Which will all be explained in the second half. I will warn everyone, the next ten chapters are pretty angsty and a reminder that this is all told from Regina's point of view so things may not always be as they seem. I strive to write different stories, not the same thing over and over again and I like my stories realistic, but I always promise a happy ending. This next part is like a sequel so the first half will be a little rough, but I hope everyone sticks around because I promise a beautiful story with Regina, Emma and Hope. So please enjoy!_


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

"Is _everyone_ here?" I softly inquire with every bit of nerves tingling my limbs.

Even in a crowded room, with all eyes on me, there's only one person I'm in search for. Only one person's opinion that matters to me.

Only one.

"Oh," Snow's face scrunches as she lowers her voice and leans just a smidgen closer, "I think the baby was fussy."

"Oh, okay," I smile and nod along, pretending that I'm perfectly fine with Emma missing the biggest moment in my life that she herself worked so hard to help me achieve.

Snow glances quickly at David and he smiles back at her with a knowing look that I'm surely not in the loop of. "Shall we begin?" She hopefully questions, reaching into the box to reveal the gorgeous, extravagant crown, sparkling in white diamonds.

My eyes flutter closed for a brief moment just to regain my composure before I become a blubbering mess from the glistening eyes swelling with pride shining back at me.

"Do you, Regina Mills, accept the role of the first elected ruler of the newly United Realms?"

"I do," I accept with all the control and elegance my mother once taught me, if she could only see me now.

"Excellent," David breathes with excitement dancing across his face. "So, if you please," he gestures for me to kneel before them so I may be properly crowned.

I gather my dress on the sides and smile confidently as I kneel before the Charmings. My friends. My biggest supporters. My family.

"I now crown you," Snow shouts for the entire room to hear as she steps forward, the sparkling diamond tiara hovering over my head.

My heart is pounding anxiously to feel the heavy weight on top of my head again, but this time I deserve it. I worked so hard, fighting every day against darkness and proving myself worthy over and over again. Now, the moment has come and my son is here and I know a bit of this crown is dedicated to him for helping me become the best version of myself. I just wish Emma was here to witness this moment, because a piece is dedicated to her as well for never once giving up on me or never loosing hope.

An unexpected ruckus startles everyone in the room, forcing Snow to abruptly stop speaking and demanding that I spin around to uncover the sudden interruption.

"Sorry, I'm late," Emma heaves out.

Her green eyes blown wide in a rushed panic, with a diaper bag hanging recklessly off her arm and that tacky red leather jacket, that holds a special place in my heart, draped over her elegant dress.

"Emma," I smile with such relief and happiness that she made it just in time.

Her cocky grin slips into places as she struts confidently my way. "You didn't think I was gonna miss this, did you?"

I don't even have words to reply, because she's just as beautiful as she was the day she vanished from my life over ten years ago and she still takes my breath away. My lips are uncertain if I should smile or frown as my eyes gloss over with my unconditional love for her. I watch as she greets our son and scrambles to get her life in order. I smile to myself, noting how she's the same old Emma, then again it's only been a little over a year in her eyes since Henry and I left.

There's a small pang of jealousy watching as Hook holds their baby close and passes her to Henry. But, I don't allow that feeling to fester deep inside for too long, because I know I did the right thing. Their family is whole and happy and that would have never been possible if I didn't step aside.

"If we are all here, can I please continue?" Snow whisper shouts, breaking through the moment.

"Sorry, mom, sorry," Emma quickly replies like a scolded little girl, that generates an even brighter smile across my face.

I slowly turn back around to face the Charmings, gathering my dress again and squatting down for Snow.

"Regina Mills, I now crown you," she pauses, her face scrunching up as she tries to fight back the tears while my heart pounds brutally against my chest. "The Good Queen," she sighs is relief, her sob finally consuming her body, "long may she reign," she cries and just seeing how proud she is of me, is worth every bit of heart ache we suffered together.

The entire crowd is an uproar of applause with some hollering, but my emotions are swelling up and I can't stop myself from reaching forward to wrap the Charmings up in a hug that will surely covey my gratitude. However, much to my surprise, they stop me from ever enveloping them into a warm hug and shockingly bow before me. I sigh and fight back my tears feeling so honored and proud in this moment.

David takes my hand and escorts me down the stairs toward the crowd where they continue applauding, congratulating and honoring me. I stroll through the front row, hugging my family members until I make my way to the one person that provokes my heart to beat faster and palms to grow slick with sweat.

Henry is holding the baby, so I smile down upon her and try very hard not to stare too hard because even after all these years the pain is still very present. Emma reaches out, pulling me into a warm hug that expresses just how proud she is.

"Emma."

"Madam Mayor," she teases, just like I hoped she would.

"Uh, I think you'll find it's, Your Majesty," Hook teases right back as he too reaches for a hug, shocking me, yet again.

They seem happy now and even playful. I don't see any lingering past resentment or hurt in their eyes. Neither one is gaping at me with the same hurt and torment in their eyes from the last time I saw them and I know they have moved on. Happily. They found their happily ever after with their baby.

"She'll always be Madam Mayor to me," Emma slyly comments, her words whisking away my heart again. "Well, this is it, this is your happy ending."

I inhale sharply and glance over her head at the crowd surrounding me, knowing this isn't it. "No Miss Swan, not even close. This isn't an ending, I _hate_ endings, because then your story is done and everyone here, well, their stories are far from over," I confess, knowing there's so much more to come.

"A happy beginning then," she reiterates with her hand reaching for Hook's, but I notice the twitch below her lips and I can so clearly see the mask set in place, distorting her true feelings of uncertainty.

"I like to call it...a second chance," I confidently state, hoping she can read between my lines, prompting her to bow her head and accept my new claim.

XXXXXXXXX 

After the people of the United Realms all shuffles out of the grand ball room, our closest loved ones from Storybrooke all went back to Granny's for a small party. Everyone went home to change into more comfortable attire because most people just aren't accustomed to those itchy extravagant clothing anymore.

It's a rather confusing time for my brain right now, I still have so much of the Evil Queen still inside of me, along with my Mayor Mills persona and now Roni, the laidback bartender. As I rummage through my closet back at my mansion I am at a loss, unsure where I truly fit in, in this world.

There's always a part of me that will carry around the Queen knowing she grabbed the world by its balls and never backed down from a fight, but she's almost a distant memory now that I try to keep locked up inside because she lead me to my wonderful life that I have now. The majority of my personality has always been Mayor Mills and it's almost impossible to wash the persona clean, but it's hard to completely ignore Roni who is now apart of me as well. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy that more relaxed version of myself.

After all my inner turmoil, I decide on a black pair of skinny jeans, with a red silk button down blouse and a cute pair of ankle boots. A perfect combination between Regina and Roni and for once in my life, I actually feel perfectly content with myself. I straighten my hair and lightly apply makeup, nothing too heavy or dark, no more need for intimidation.

Soon, I'm out the door and heading to Granny's. I decide to walk this evening, absorbing the warm evening breeze sweeping passed me and I have to admit, it's good to be home in Storybrooke once again. I never knew how much I actually missed this place until I was gone. Those ten years apart really forced me to face to the truth. Storybrooke is my true home, where I really belong.

I'm a complete and utter nervous wreck as I stroll closer and closer to the diner. I've been back in Storybrooke now with all the realms for a little over two months and I have successfully avoided Emma and her little family now this entire time, until today. I have ignored all her calls, dodged every place I knew she would be and cut every conversation short that Snow or Charming attempted to unbury about their daughter.

I know she will be at Granny's and I know I have to face the music, but I am dreading this moment, at this point I rather suffer through a whole mouth full of root canals than a conversation with Emma Swan.

"Congratulations!" The entire crowd roars as I awkwardly stumble through the door.

"Sorry, I'm late," I meekly reply and squeeze through the crowd, searching for my son and Jacinda to keep me safe.

"Eh, you're not getting away that easy!" Zelena hollers as her boney fingers curl shockingly tight around my elbow and jerk me through the crowd toward the counter. "Shots, Granny!"

"Zelena, I'm really not in the mood for-"

"Hi," her soft angelic voice sings a choir as she slides in beside me with a baby nestled against her chest.

"Make them doubles Granny!" I shout over the rowdy civilians of Storybrooke.

"You got it, Your Majesty!" Granny teases, lining up a few shot glasses and scooping up a rather large bottle of tequila.

"Nice jeans," Emma comments as her eyes greedily take in the lower half of my body.

"Nice baby," is the first thing that tumbles embarrassingly, horrifically, awkwardly from my mouth.

My sister's entire face scrunches up from the painful phrase, her wild red curls bounce vigorously as she shakes her head at my sudden stupidity and she mouths my words again in utter shock.

"Uh, thanks," Emma nervously replies, glancing down at her baby to study her features, like she's seeing her for the very first time.

"Hey Mom! Aunt Regina!" Robin cheerfully and thankfully interrupts this atrocious moment with her girlfriend right by her side.

"I guess I'll get to call you Aunt Regina and Mom too, soon, right?" Alice cheekily slides in her comment.

"I don't believe we've met?" Emma acknowledges, sliding her one hand free from her child and reaching to shake the stranger's hand. "I'm Emma."

"Ah, right. Robin stole your bug," Alice laughs as she quickly accepts Emma's gesture and rapidly shakes her hand. "I'm Alice, Robin's fiancé."

Emma blinks rapidly, surprised by the new information. "Oh wow, congratulations you two."

I hear Granny slide the shots between Zelena and I, but the blonde sheriff beside me is causing a bit of a distraction in the moment.

"Thanks! I'm also Hook's daughter," Alice adds on, stretching on her tip toes in search of her father across the room in a sea of people.

"How are you going to tell your dad apart from the other Hook in town?" Robin innocently questions while I abruptly turn around and slam back my double shot.

"Hey! You didn't wait for me," Zelena protests, but my head is spinning from all the madness and truly I don't give a damn.

"Oh, your father's other Hook, I met him before, he's been looking for you for quite some time," Emma softly replies, slightly swaying beside me as she rocks a sleeping beauty, who I refuse to glance at.

"Yeah, well my awful mother kept us apart for a very long time."

"Who's your mother?" Emma innocently inquires.

"Mother Gothel. They were some one night stand and she tricked him and the next day I was born," she mindlessly rambles, not at all conscience of how crazy the whole story may come off.

"The next day?" Emma balks, her face quizzically pinching in uncertainty.

"Yeah, magic baby," Alice confirms, fully proud, pointing to her chest as Robin slides her arm around her fiancé and gently kisses her cheek.

"Magic baby!" Emma practically screeches, instantly jolting her baby awake.

"Yes, did you not hear the story?" Alice questions, before turning to Robin. "Did she not just hear the-"

"She did," Robin softly confirms, pecking her girlfriend's lips again.

"I'm sorry baby," Emma chants as she bounces from left to right to soothe her baby's frantic cries while my insides coil and my heart breaks all over again.

The ear piercing wailing coming from such a tiny human reminds me so much of when Henry was that age and all I want to do in this moment is steal that baby from Emma's arms and rock her gently while telling her a cute story that will distract her cries.

Instead, I notice Hook's presence swooping in to save the day with a pink rubber stopper decorating his Hook. "Aww come on Hope, what's the problem little one?" He cheerfully sing songs as he scoops the baby from Emma's arms.

My heart aches and I have never felt such a strong pull toward another human before in my life. The blood is thumping heavily beneath my flesh, like it's desperately trying to reach out for the poor baby. I quickly turn back around to the counter and slam back Zelena's shot as well to drown out this overwhelming feeling.

"What the bloody hell?" My sister shrieks, but I ignore her completely.

"Granny," I wince, but hold up two more fingers for the woman, who nods curtly and snatches up her bottle.

"I'm just going to sneak this one out back for a moment," Hook says as Emma slings the diaper bag over his shoulder.

"Thanks Killian, I need to-"

"I know," he beams back her like she's his entire world and I just feel every inch of my body deflate.

_Why the hell did I think it was a smart idea to come back and combine all the realms?_

Hook sneaks out the front door with Hope nestled close against his leather jacket while I ignore itchy prickles running down my spine. Granny gently slides two more shots my way and smiles sympathetically, which completely catches me off guard before she moves on to another customer.

"Regina? Can we talk? Please," Emma quietly whispers behind me, but I ignore her once again and toss back another shot.

"You witch," Zelena hisses, realizing I didn't wait for her yet again. She quickly steals the next glass before I have a chance and slams back the tequila with expertise.

"Regina? Please."

I laugh humorlessly and shake my head in disbelief. _Is this really my life_? "I'm not in the mood, Swan."

"Regina, please," she begs, her knees bouncing to express her anguish, but I just simply shake my head, rejecting her offer again. She huffs out her annoyance like a stubborn small child and leans heavily into my side, instantaneously producing goosebumps to break across my flesh. "Why is there a magic baby, without true love? And without both people having magic?" She hisses angrily in my ear.

I shrug her off and scowl as I turn around to face her. "I don't know, _Sheriff Swan_, why don't you put your detective skills to work and figure it out," I rudely comment and break away from her body pressing up against mine.

I storm through the crowd and forcefully push open the front door only to growl under my breath when I am met with Hook and Hope.

"Hey love," he cheerfully greets me, again stunning me by his peculiar behavior.

"How are you so calm?" I angrily spit as he rocks side to side with a mile wide grin plastered across his face.

"It's easy when this little one is around," he chuckles, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead. "You haven't held her yet."

"And," I deadpan.

"Come on, hold the little tike," he urges, slowly stepping closer to my rigid body.

"I don't think that's-"

"Come on, you've faced far more scarier things in your day," he chuckles again, leaning the baby closer into my arms. "She won't bite."

"I know that," I coldly reply, with a permanent snarl curling my upper lip.

"She wants to get to know you," he smiles down upon the little one and presses her against my chest. "Go on." I roll my eyes and wonder what the hell has gotten into this man? I accept the baby, but eye him skeptically. "What?"

"Are you Nook?"

"What the bloody hell is a Nook?"

"Never mind."

"Just pay attention to Hope."

"I'm not going to drop her. I can hold a baby and a conversation at the same time. It's been done before," I sarcastically quip while his sparkling blue eyes roll in annoyance.

"That's not what I meant."

I sigh, finally admitting defeat and peer down at the chubby little baby in my arms. The second our eyes meet, all my rage pounding viciously about this situations melts away. Peace, fills my heart and soul and creates a watery smile to form upon my lips. She smiles up at me and wiggles happily in my arms and all I see is Emma. Emma's chin, Emma's lips, Emma's smile, just like I did with Henry all those years ago. Except this little girl still has her grayish blue eyes that all babies have at birth. I find myself wondering if she will inherit Emma's piercing green or Hook's baby blues.

"Well hello little princess," I coo, my finger automatically tracing her soft cheek and jawline.

"She's beautiful, right?" Hook breathes out as he peeks over at his daughter's ecstatic face.

"Gorgeous," I hum as she bounces in my arms, so I quickly maneuver her, understanding that she wants to play right now. "She looks like Emma."

"That's what I said, Emma tells a different story."

I scoff and rolls my eyes. "There's no way her delicate features resemble you, sorry, no matter how much guyliner you paint on," I snark, but astonishingly Hook laughs, actually laughs.

"I know," he concedes, "but I do see where she's coming from." He pauses for a moment catching my attention. "You know, we weren't sure if we'd ever see you again."

"I know. I had given up on the idea of coming back to Storybrooke a long time ago," I admit.

"How long has it been for you?" He sincerely asks.

"Over ten years...give or take. It's hard to say with the time frozen during another curse."

I quickly find a bench on Granny's patio and sit down, settling this bubbly little baby into my lap. Delicate little coos and baby garble spill from her mouth as I memorize every inch of her face. The little button nose that promises of future freckles to the chubby little rosy cheeks coaxing me into planting lovable kisses all over. She's mostly bald as of right now, but there are a few wisps that are pretty dark and I wonder if she will have Hook's hair color.

"Why are you being so nice?" I bluntly interrogate as I notice his blue eyes on me with a goofy grin.

"I'm not that same person I was when you left, Regina. Emma and I have been through a lot this passed year."

"I would assume so," I reply, my eyes drifting to his behind Hope for just a brief second before they fall upon this beautiful baby again.

"Yeah, you could probably assume," he mumbles, awkwardly scratching his neck, "but it took us a long time to get here and we have an understanding."

"Well, I would hope so for this little girl's sake," I babble, gently wiggling the precious baby, producing little heartwarming giggles.

"Of course, everything we do is for her. All our decisions have been for her."

"Well, I'm happy to hear that." The corner of my mouth deepens before I quickly stand to my feet. I place a gentle kiss to her warm cheek, my body immediately melting like gooey chocolate. Tears unexpectedly fill my eyes so I quickly hand her back to Hook. "I'm happy for you guys," I sincerely express, before I hurry back inside to drown my sorrows in a bottle of tequila with my sister.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

"So, Queen of the United Realms," Snow sings as she waltzes through my office door, "what do you have in mind for all the different realms?"

"For some strange reason, I prefer Mayor Mills," I correct her, my hand still furiously scratching my pen away against the notepad.

"That's fine," she flippantly replies and slides easily into the seat across from me. "What are you so angrily scribbling down?" Snow questions, leaning across my desk, provoking my eyes to snap in her direction.

"You know, I like your hair much better this way than that pixie cut," I kindly praise as my eyes take in her inky tresses resting upon her shoulders.

"Thanks," she mindlessly replies as her eyes shift all around my sheet. "Emma, David, Killian Jones, Captain Nook, Wish Henry, Henry Mills...Tink, Mulan?" Her voice reaching a higher pitch as she reaches the end of the list. "What are these names for?"

"We have a lot of realms now under one authority, but I think we still need people in charge of each area," I begin to explain.

"So, like a sheriff for each realm?" She curiously questions, snatching the sheet right from under my nose.

"Well, yes," I nervously answer as I too lean forward to sneak another peek at my sheet as insecurities of failure ring loudly in the back of my mind.

"So, how would all this work?"

"I was thinking there would be a sheriff below me, who would be in charge of the deputies that would be in charge of each of their own sections, and they would have their own teams to keep everything in line."

"Meaning each realm would have their own police force with one deputy in charge that reports back to the sheriff?"

"Basically, does it make sense?" I meekly inquire, fiddling frantically with my pen as I wait for her answer.

I've been in charge before, holding authority and demanding respect, but this...well this is the first time that I am actually elected and not forcing people to follow my lead. I don't want to screw up a damn thing and I want the people to know they made the correct choice when choosing me.

"Yes, of course. I think you will need that, especially with the Enchanted Forest and Neverland here, there are many thieves out there," she lowers her voice as she offers the piece of paper back.

"I know," I conclude.

"Have you asked Emma about accepting the role as sheriff with a newborn?"

My eyes immediately flick to big green doe eyes watching me carefully with a tiny little smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth. "I beg your pardon?" She rolls her eyes dramatically and scoffs right in my face. "What makes you assume that I have chosen Emma?"

"Please," I narrow my eyes and hastily straighten my posture. "Okay, beside the fact that Emma is already sheriff of Storybrooke and the simple fact that she's the Savior and most trustworthy, she's also your closest confidante."

"You must grow dizzy from constantly holding that big head of yours up so high."

"Ah, snarky reply, you must know I am right," she teases right back. I decide rolling my eyes is a sufficient enough reply for my friend as I stare back down at the sheet and continue writing. "So, who are you assigning where?"

"Well, I think Mulan would be my best option for the Enchanted Forest. I'm thinking Killian would be best for Neverland. Maybe Tink in Oz?" I question, unsure where I should place her, but I know I trust her enough to be in charge.

"Do you think each realm should have two people in charge? Maybe Tink and Killian would be best in Neverland. I think Ruby should be in charge of Oz now."

"That's true," I agree, scribbling down Ruby's name quickly next to Oz. "If I have two then David needs to be with Mulan in the Enchanted Forest."

"Who will be with Emma in Storybrooke?"

"Hmmm," I tap my pen against the notepad as I scan my list of names. "Wish Henry? He's young and would do very well under Emma's wing, besides, Storybrooke is the calmest and safest place."

"I agree, but we need to call him something else other then Wish Henry," she chuckles.

"I know, I will speak with him, it's all rather complicated," I wave off the topic and focus on the task right now.

"Is it weird that you and Emma have two versions of Henry now?"

"Yes, but we don't share custody of Wish Henry like we did with our son. He's eighteen and used to being on his own, for the most part he still stays in the Wish realm. However, he does visit me often and I assume he does the same with Emma, in his heart she raised him."

"Yes, he visits quite often."

"Maybe one day he can be in charge of the Wish Realm, but for now I think Nook is the most reliable."

"Agreed."

We fall silent as Snow watches me quickly make changes and read over my new options. Her eyes are boring onto the top of my head and I know Snow well enough to know there's something tickling the tip of her tongue, just itching to come spewing out.

"Out with it," I deadpan, never once glancing back up into those big doe eyes.

This woman doesn't even skip a beat. "Have you spoken to Emma, yet?"

I exhale slowly to calm the irrational rage that I had hoped would be long buried by now, but clearly is still bouncing around inside of me waiting to be set free from its prison.

"No."

"Regina, you need to speak with her."

"Why?" I try to sound impassive, but I'm not sure if I can accomplish that when speaking about the one person who is my happy ending, dancing around happily in her happy ending with someone else.

"You two need to mend whatever is broken between you." My eyes flick to hers expressing that she doesn't truly know what she's speaking about so she should probably just staple her mouth shut right now. "Don't look at me like that Regina. Emma is my daughter and you are one of my dearest friends now, I have every right to be concerned."

"No, no you don't. You haven't a clue as to what has happened in our past-"

"Don't I?" She snaps, effectively stealing that last of the words from my own mouth. "Emma is my daughter and I know you two had a falling out when Henry left for the new realm." She reaches across my desk and places her palm over my notepad, demanding my full attention. "Emma spoke to me about some things and I think it's best if you two discuss your problems."

"What did she tell you?" I snap at the poor woman with all my rage thumping just below my flesh, begging to be released. I know this isn't her fault and I have no right to be angry with her, but I'm livid with anything that has to do with Emma right now.

"I know, Regina," she sighs, like she's almost embarrassed to confess her truth. "I know that you two have feelings for one another and I know that you both acted on those feelings during that trip, Emma confessed."

I slowly close my eyes and fall back into my leather chair. For some strange reason, I just don't feel the need to murder Snow like I usually do when she irritates me and I believe that has to do with a part of Roni deep inside of me. I'm able to relax and control my temper a lot more now, so I take a moment and breathe through this moment deciding where I would like this topic to go.

"So, what is it that you are expecting me to do? Run over there and disturb a happy home, demand that Emma choose me instead of the pirate?"

"That's not at all what I'm suggesting, but I think you need to _talk_," she stresses and I can practically see the secret twinkling in her eye that she's hopelessly trying to keep hidden away. "How do you expect to work together to keep all the realms under control when you can't even stand to be in the same room as her?"

I inhale sharply and slowly breathe out all my apprehension about this matter. She's right. I know she's right, but I don't know if I can face my past right now.

"I'll think about it."

XXXXXXXXX 

The following week I set up a meeting and ask everyone to meet at City Hall in Storybrooke so I could explain my new plan for the protection and safety of each realm. Everyone that I deemed worthy of controlling a police force attended and luckily each one agreed to my offer. So, we sat down, set the rules in place and exchanged some helpful ideas.

"Rubes, it's so good to see you again," Emma beams the moment the meeting is over and people are packing up their belongings.

"I missed you guys so much," she breathes, pulling the sheriff into her strong embrace. "I would love for you to come by the diner this evening and meet Kansas."

"Kansas?" I question, bewildered by the new name.

"I'm sorry, Dorothy, Kansas is my nickname for her and honestly I hardly ever call her Dorothy anymore," she giggles, waving her hand about to breeze past her foolishness. "Anyways, we are having dinner tonight and I would love for you guys to meet her."

"Great meeting," David slyly comments as he passes by on his way out the door.

"Thank you," I smile and nod in his direction before he sweeps out the door for his first shift in the Enchanted Forest.

"Sure, you still haven't met my baby girl so I'll swing by with Hope," Emma suddenly answers Ruby while I pretend to busy, shoving files into my bag.

"Yes, I cannot wait to meet your precious little one," Ruby excitedly replies, smiling from ear to ear. "Regina?"

"I'm sorry, I have to decline," I mutter, focusing on packing away my paperwork and avoiding Emma's enticing eyes at all cost. "I am having dinner this evening with Henry."

"Oh, which one?" The sheriff investigates, swaying a little too close into my personal space.

"Wish Henry."

"We really need to come up with a new name for him, this is too confusing," Emma chuckles while I nod curtly and zip up my bag.

"I will speak with him tonight," I flatly respond and sling my bag over my shoulder. "Have a nice evening, we will speak soon," I politely excuse myself and quickly rush out the door, heels clicking anxiously against the hardwood floors as I make my escape.

"Aunt Regina! Wait up!" Robin calls out for me just as I'm approaching my Mercedes.

I open my car door and place all my work inside before spinning around to meet my niece's bright eyes and flushed cheeks from running after me.

"Robin, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course," she heaves, "I-you just ran out of the meeting so quickly, I didn't get the opportunity to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"Well, yeah. It means so much to me that you placed me in charge of Wonderland. I know it's a pretty calm realm since your mother left and there's not much to look after, but I still feel honored that you asked me," she cheerfully explains, producing a watery smile to form upon my lips.

"Oh honey, of course I trust you and I know that you will be fair and you are one hell of a shot with that bow and arrow, just like your father," I smile back at my beautiful niece even though my bottom lip is quivering just thinking about her father again. It's been so long since I've thought about him and truthfully I do feel guilt about it.

"Thank you, that really means a lot. I promise I won't let you down and now I can have a steady income for the wedding Alice and I always dreamed of."

My palm cups her cheek as my thumb slowly caresses her soft skin and I become all teary eyed again thinking about how grown up she is now. It seems like yesterday I was carrying her around on my hip.

"I am so proud of you, you will make an excellent Deputy and if you need any advice-"

"You think Emma trusts me? I did steal her bug."

"You were sixteen. You've grown up and matured since then. If I trust you, then Emma will too."

"Good, because I do respect her and I want to prove that I can do this."

"You'll be great," I vow, pulling her into my arms and placing a quick peck to her temple before we apart ways.

However, because the universe has a sick obsession with my life, Emma is jogging through the parking lot toward my car before I have a chance to drive away. I sigh heavily and wonder if I was the devil himself in a previous life to deserve this much bad karma thrown my way.

Emma taps her knuckles against my passenger door, prompting me to roll down my window, but this woman reaches inside and unlocks the door, granting herself permission to slide into my passenger seat.

"Would you like to take a seat?" I coldly reply while she rolls her eyes and cranks my window back up again.

"You're avoiding me."

"No, I'm simply not seeking you out."

"No, you sent me an email about the job offer and announced it to the entire meeting without one glance in my direction."

"I was appearing neutral, unbiased on my decision to point you head sheriff," I effortlessly lie and start my car, still avoiding her eyes.

Emma abruptly maneuvers in her seat creating that awful noise of leather rubbing together as she reaches across the console and turns off my car.

"Regina, please, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. Our son is a grown man now with his own family and you have your own daughter to worry about. There's nothing left for us to discuss unless it has to do with the United Realms."

"No, I'm not dropping this. It's important and we have to talk about the past. We have to hash this out."

"No, Emma we don't. I want nothing more to do with you except on a professional level. I cannot handle watching you parade around with your child and I know it's selfish and rude, but I need to keep my life balanced and I need to be happy. Having you in my life will only bring me down and I can no longer do that to myself. I have to think about my life, my wants and my needs if I don't want to drown in misery. I'm sorry if you thought we could be friends again and everything would return to normal, but I can't do that."

"And I get that, I do, Regina, but I need to talk to you about-"

"I don't want to hear it," I firmly demand, curling my fingers angrily around my steering wheel to project my anger out on something other than her face.

"Well too damn bad. You need to hear it, because all you ever do is cut me off and you need to hear-" and like that my magic reacts without my full consent and poofs her away, back to her house.

Usually I am far more in control of my magic, but I closed my eyes and thought about what it would be like to just make her vanish and apparently that's exactly what I did. I exhale slowly, knowing we are both behaving like children and start my car once again.

I carefully back out of my parking spot and hate myself for being so cruel to the one person I need in my life. I just can't do it, whatever she has to say, I can't just pretend that everything is okay between us when we were so close to a happy ending. Maybe if we never slept together? Maybe if we never spent six weeks casually dating with intimate moments between the sheets, pouring our hearts out and divulging in all our past secrets? Then maybe I could plaster on my fakest smile and pretend that I'm not madly in love with her and that we could actually be friends, but it's too late now.

Our time has passed with nothing left to show for it, but my broken heart.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

"Yes Tink," I exasperate into the phone as I tumble into my home after a long and trying day at work. "Yes, it's absolutely necessary that you and Killian patrol twenty-four-seven in Neverland-" she cuts me off complaining about how it's too much work for the two of them. "Tink, you bring in a Lost Boy, at least once a day for vandalism or petty theft, it needs to be done. Why don't you ask Emma if you could borrow Leroy to help out. We don't need that many people patrolling in Storybrooke."

"Of course you gave Emma and your son the easiest town," she scoffs into the phone while I just roll my eyes.

"Emma has a lot to deal with, don't forget every time a Deputy brings someone in, it's to Storybrooke and Emma has to deal with the end result."

"I guess," she mumbles, never wanting to admit I'm right while I smile smugly to nobody, but myself.

"Call Emma and ask for Leroy's help. I'm fine with the shift change if she is." My phone suddenly vibrates, informing me that I have yet another phone call. "I really have to go, I have another call. I will speak to you soon, Tink."

"Alright, bye Regina."

I quickly answer the other call, just barely catching Snow's name across my screen. "Hello-"

"Regina, thank god," she breathes heavily into the phone with heart breaking sobs in the background.

"Snow? What's wrong?" I quickly interrogate, clenching the phone closer to my ear, waiting for her explanation as my heart beats faster in fear.

"Neal, he's so sick. He's running a high fever and cannot keep a thing down. I need to take him in to the doctor, but I have Hope and she really shouldn't be here right now. I don't want her catching whatever he has."

"Okay," I slowly drag out the word, mindlessly clenching the phone even tighter as I have an idea as to where this phone call is headed.

"Emma's at work," she blurts out before I have a chance to question her.

"What about Hook?"

"He's patrolling Neverland right now."

"Uh, and your husband?"

"He's coming with me to the hospital and besides, like I said before, Hope shouldn't be in this house."

"Tell Emma it's fine, she can leave and call in Henry."

"That would be all well and good if she would answer her damn phone!"

"What do you want from me?" I skeptically question even though my skin is prickling and my palms are growing clammier by the second.

"Please watch her for me," she begs into the phone before a violent sob seeps into my phone effectively breaking my heart for little Neal.

"You really think Emma and Hook would be fine with that?" I suspiciously question.

"Yes, of course. I know for a fact," she vehemently swears as though she already confirmed this entire insane plan with them. "Please come pick her up," she whines into the phone, instantly bringing me back to the days when she herself was just a small child.

"I don't have a car seat," I lamely decline and I swear I can actually hear her eyes rolling.

"You have _magic_! Magic one!" She snaps, completely catching me off guard.

I slowly pull my phone away from my ear and stare dumbfounded at the device. She must really be panicking for her to lash out at me in such a hostile tone.

"Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes," I finally conclude, ending the call and hating every hero fiber I have coursing through my system now.

I hastily jog up my stairs and change out of my work pantsuit and into something a little more relaxed for the evening. I rush out toward my car and follow Snow's instructions, materializing an infant car seat in the back of my Mercedes.

My stomach twists and turns far worse than any roller coaster and I plead with myself to just calm down. It's been three months since I've been back and have avoided this little girl and her parents like an infectious disease the entire time, except for the one time I caved outside of Granny's and finally held the little girl. I can only imagine how uncomfortable she will be with me this evening, knowing I'm a complete stranger. Even if we did bond for all of five minutes a month ago.

I slowly pull up in front of the Charmings farm house and breathe out all my fears of taking home Emma's child. A child I wished so hopelessly to be mine. I kill the engine and pocket my keys, breathing slowly as I exit my car. I climb the wooden porch and for a brief moment I think I should just turn around and flee, but then the door is swinging open, revealing a frantic Snow and a screaming Hope and all my chances for escaping are swept away with the gentle evening breeze.

"What's wrong with her?" I gently ask, rushing forward to help Snow before the woman suffers from a nervous break down.

"She's just upset because Neal is screaming. We really need to take him this minute," she heaves, delicately placing Hope into my arms just as David steps out the door with Neal curled into a ball against his chest.

"I think it's the flu," David absentmindedly replies as he tramples down the stairs in a rush.

"I hope it's only that," Snow adds on, slamming her front door shut and locking it. "Here, Regina, her bag has everything you need," she anxiously explains, slipping the baby bag onto my shoulder. "She eats every four hours, Emma mixes her breast milk and formula, her last feeding was an hour ago," Snow quickly rambles off her instructions as she rushes down the stairs with me hot on her heels while Hope whimpers in my arms.

"How much?"

"Six ounces, but sometimes more. I think she's hungry, but-" Snow quickly snaps her mouth shut and waves her hand as though she's annoyed with the topic.

"She's five months, right? Is she eating baby cereal? Oatmeal or rice?"

"Whale says not until six months."

"Whale's also an idiot."

"I know," Snow deadpans as I follow her to her car where David is finishing up strapping Neal inside. "If you have any questions just call or text me, but I'm sure you'll be fine. You've raised plenty of babies around these realms," she cheerfully praises which actually helps settle my anxiety about the entire situation.

I glance at the baby girl sitting upright against my chest. Her cheeks are burning scarlet, her big eyes are filled with tears and her bottom lip is puckered out in the most adorable way. I don't even think twice, I lean forward and kiss her forehead before guiding her head to rest against my chest.

"Thanks Regina," David pants as he climbs into the front seat.

"Keep me updated," I strictly order Snow and she nods vigorously before sliding into her seat and slamming her door shut.

I watch as they peel away from their home, leaving Hope and I together in the dust.

"Well, baby girl, looks like it's just you and me," I softly whisper, holding her just a little closer as we walk toward my car.

I balance the little girl in one arm and pop open my car door, dropping the bag to the floor and very carefully placing Hope inside. Even though she's quite chunky, she's still so tiny in my eyes. It's been so long since I've held a baby this small and soon I'm chuckling to myself.

_Was Henry ever this tiny?_

I fasten her buckles, her dark grey eyes following every move I make along the way. When I'm finished my index finger subconsciously tickles her stomach just like I did too many years ago with Henry. She doesn't giggle, but she does smile an award winning grin that is all Emma. I breathe a laugh through my nose and press a gentle kiss to her forehead again.

"Okay, let's go bye-bye."

XXXXXXXXX 

"Alright," I toss my keys onto the end table and kick off my boots while balancing Hope against my chest and the diaper bag weighing heavily on my shoulder. "This is my home, I won't bore you with a tour," I mumble as Hope's little fingers tangle in the ends of my hair.

I glance down to my right and watch as this little human becomes fascinated with my hair, twirling it around her fingers, yanking painfully, but has no clue what it could possibly be. "So inquisitive just like your brother." I clasp my hand behind her head and press another kiss to her forehead as we venture off into the kitchen to place Emma's breast milk into the refrigerator.

After that I carry her into the living room, I flick my wrist and produce a soft baby blanket to spread out across the floor. "How about we play baby girl," I suggest, gently laying her down on her stomach.

I dig through her diaper bag and find a rattle and a few squishy toys that generate odd noises, to place all around her play mat. As well, I sink down onto the floor upon my stomach, directly in front of her and smile at her big grin, eager to play.

"You look just like your mommy, I don't care what they say." My fingers delicately sweep a few dark wisps to one side, admiring just how beautiful she truly is.

Hope reaches for a giraffe with rubber feet and instantly shoves the toy into her mouth to naw on. This adorable little girl coos and babbles as she rocks from side to side, preparing to roll over.

"When you're older, you come to my house for makeup advice, alright? Your mother hardly uses any now a days and your father's brand is clearly the cheapest," I laugh to myself, but this gorgeous little creature giggles along with me.

"Oh, you like when I poke fun of your dad, huh? Well then baby girl, I think you and I will get along just fine," I confess, tickling right under her chin, producing more wonderful angelic baby giggles.

Hope rocks to her right and soon she's rolling right onto her back, producing more joyful giggles, fully proud of herself. "You're such a happy baby," I smile, hovering above her face as she reaches for my hair cascading all around us. "I bet your mother is goofy with you all day, huh?"

On cue, my phone begins ringing, Emma's name lighting up as though she knew we were just talking about her. "Your mother," I inform Hope before I answer the call. "Hello."

"Regina! Do you know where my mom is? She called me over fifteen times and now I keep trying her and she's not answering."

"Breathe," I flatly reply, bopping Hope on the nose as she pulls my hair. "Neal has a high fever so your parents took him to the doctor, but they didn't think Hope should be around him...so...I have her at my house now."

"Oh, um...I'm sorry, I was busy booking some thief from the Enchanted Forest. I-uh," there's some rustling around in the background and I know she's probably very busy. "I'll call Henry to come in and I'll come pick up Hope."

I fall silent for a moment, assessing Hope's innocent smile, to her button nose and her dancing eyes that are significantly darker since the last time I've seen her. My heart swells with love, in spite of everything, she's still absolutely adorable and she is my son's half sister and I can't help but love her.

"It's alright. She's already here, she can stay. Finish your work, she'll be just fine with me," I reassure Emma, melting the moment I hear her exhale in relief.

"Thank you, Regina. I really appreciate this. I will be off around eight. You should have more than enough bottles in her bag. There's extra clothes-if you want to put her in pajamas-and there's extra-"

"Emma, I promise she's fine with me. I've got this. We will see you around eight," I confirm with conviction, hoping I can settle her nerves about someone new watching her child.

"Thanks. Thank you so much."

"Of course. Goodbye."

"Bye."

I quickly end the call and slip my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I lean down and press a small kiss to Hope's nose. "Okay little one, I need to make myself some dinner." I push myself off the floor and scoop her into my arms. "Would you like to help me prepare dinner?" I question, gently rubbing her back.

She babbles her own language, already reaching for my hair yet again as we enter the kitchen. I flick my wrist, instantly producing a highchair and carefully sitting her down inside. I strap her in and place a couple of toys down on her tray to play with while I prepare a simple salad.

"When your brother was little he would love when I would play music while preparing our meals," I happily reminisce, recalling when Henry confessed he enjoyed those times on our trip to California.

I stroll toward the iPad set up on my counter and scroll through my songs that I've grown accustomed to as Roni in Seattle. I decide Def Leopard probably isn't the best option for Hope so I scroll back up toward Carole King. A soft melody sweeps through the kitchen, inspiring Hope to bounce in her highchair.

"Ah, so you enjoy music, huh baby girl?" I smile wildly as I drift passed her and tickle under her chin before I begin chopping my vegetables.

"_Tonight you're mine...completely_," I softly sing, swiftly maneuvering my knife through a carrot.

A loud clatter bangs off toward my side, so I peek to my right to find Hope bouncing up and down, banging her rattle against the tray. I smile back at her and press the flat of my knife against a carrot, crushing it until it's a pile of mush.

"I won't tell if you won't," I sternly state while big hazel eyes widen with excitement.

I scoop up the tiniest amount possible onto my finger and gently press it to her lips. Hope instantly opens her thin pale lips and greedily sucks the orange goo into her mouth. She hums as though it's the most scrumptious thing she's ever eaten, which is at the moment in her life. I belt out a wholesome laugh. "Like mother, like daughter," I tease, shaking my head.

"_Can I believe the magic of your sighs, will you still love me tomorrow?"_ I sweetly sing, prompting this precious little girl to wiggle and dance in her chair. I softly chuckle and brush her hair to one side before turning my attention back to my salad.

The moment my back is turned, Hope bangs her hands down on her tray, demanding my full attention. I smile to myself and scoop a little more mashed up carrot onto my finger and feed Hope. She smiles wide with her eyes lighting up just like her mother's when she spots a bear claw from a mile away.

"_You said that I'm the only one_." Hope babbles like she wants to sing along, stealing my heat that very second. I unclasp her buckles and lift her into my arms, gently spinning with her around the kitchen. "_But will my heart_ _be broken? When the night meets the morning sun."_

Hope instantly reaches for my hair, fluffing the ends as we dance around the kitchen. "You really are a princess, aren't you?" I whisper, pressing another delicate kiss to her forehead. I sigh heavily, slightly swaying to the soft music floating around us.

"_Will you still love me tomorrow?"_

XXXXXXXXX

"Okay baby girl, time for a diaper change and jammies," I softly coo once I finish feeding her after my dinner.

Hope's chubby little fists press into her eyes, desperately trying to rub away the sleep. Those mesmerizing eyes are glossy and heavy with the need to sleep, forcing me to wonder what time she usually goes down for the night. I glance at the clock on the wall and note that it's a little after seven and Emma should be here in about an hour to pick her up.

My lips unknowingly curl into a frown at the idea of this precious little girl having to leave. I always wanted children and now that Henry's grown up and I'm all alone, I'm missing the unconditional love of a baby again. My fingers sweep through Hope's hair, thinking about how I always wanted a baby girl of my own. I sigh, hating myself for wallowing in self pity as Hope nuzzles against my chest.

"Oh baby, you're tired, aren't you?" I gently rub her back as we walk into the living room where her diaper bag is. "After I change you we can curl up on the couch. I have an inkling you're a cuddler like your mother," I tease, gently laying her on the plush blanket spread out for her.

Hope rubs her eyes again, staring up at me with those big beautiful irises. I smile down on her, the back of my index finger lovingly caressing her cheek before I start undressing her.

"Mommy picked out some cute little pajamas with duckies on them," I comment, quickly changing her diaper as though I was just changing Henry's yesterday. "I'm surprised your grandmother hasn't filled your drawers with fluffy pink tutus," I laugh as Hope wiggles and squirms happily as I speak to her.

I gently slip her arms into the footie pajamas and then her feet before carefully zipping her up. There's just something so lovable about a baby in pajamas. I quickly scoop her up into my arms, kissing her cheek before resting her against my chest.

"You're going to be so smart just like your brother, aren't you baby?" However this time she doesn't giggle or squirm with joy, instead she nuzzles against my chest, expressing how tired she truly is.

I sigh, holding her close with one arm while I clean up her clothes and toys, neatly packing them away for when Emma arrives. It's seven thirty by the time I finish, settling down on my couch with Hope heavily resting against my chest. Once I sit down, her little feet kick and squirm against my thighs, needing to stretch out. She grunts from her own frustrations creating a small chuckle to escape my lips.

"Excuse me dear, am I in your way?" I tease, scooting so I can lay down on the couch. She whimpers softly into my chest, her face moving from left to right as she tries to soothe herself. "Do you normally sleep with a paci, baby girl?" I softly question, soothingly rubbing her back.

With my free hand I wiggle my fingers, the contents of the diaper bag slowly rising into the air one by one. Sure enough a purple paci with a colorful butterfly floats up to the top. I curl my index finger, commanding that the pacifier comes to me, smiling to myself as it obeys. I snatch up the pacifier and gently place it in Hope's mouth before magicking the rest of the items back inside her bag.

Hope sighs in relief and snuggles even further into my chest, her warmth seeping into my chest and filling my heart with unconditional love. My lips stretch forward to press a loving kiss to the top of her head as my fingers run through her tiny wisps and my hand rubs her back methodically.

"Once upon a time, in a far away land, a princess was born, but this princess, Regina, had her life already destined for great darkness. Princess Regina was to be molded and shaped to be the cruelest villain despite how big her heart was and how much she tried to be the kindest little girl," I begin to tell a story to soothe Hope to sleep, but her little head pops up from my chest as though she knows that I am this Princess Regina.

Big, glossy, hazel eyes stare back at me with droopy eyelids and I know she's on the brink of sleep as she sucks her pacifier even harder. I smile back at this gorgeous baby and sweep some hair to the side.

"So, Princess Regina grew up, forced by everyone around her to be the Queen Villain she was born to be, but little did she know that another Princess would soon be born who was destined for the greater good. Princess Emma was born into the world to be the exact opposite of Queen Regina, she was created out of true love to counter all of the Queen's darkness and bring back whatever happy endings the Queen had stolen."

Hope blinks, struggling to pay attention as my hand gently rubs soothing circles upon her back. I kiss the tip of her nose and slowly guide her head back down to my chest.

"Queen Regina was oblivious to the fact that maybe this Savior, Princess Emma, could snuff out the darkness trapped inside her soul. One day, Princess Emma gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Prince Henry, however she was forced to give him up. Fate worked its magic that day, sending the baby boy into the arms of the greatest villain, Queen Regina and filling her cold, black heart with true love."

Hope snuggles her warm cheek further into my chest, persuading my fingers to dance across her scalp and hold her even closer.

"As Prince Henry grew older he knew in his heart that he had another mother. Somehow this inquisitive little boy knew that his mothers were destined to meet. So, Prince Henry braved the world in search of Princess Emma and brought her home to Queen Regina."

I sigh, knowing deep in my heart how badly fate has had it out for me since the day I was born. Hope squirms against my chest again, burying her hands beneath her chin and rubbing her cheek against my shirt once more.

"Queen Regina felt threatened by Princess Emma, terrified that her pure heart would come back for her son and steal away the only true and unconditional love the Queen has ever felt. So, she swore to battle against Princess Emma to protect her Prince, little did the Queen know that the Princess was the bravest hero she had ever come across. Princess Emma showed up one day with a chainsaw and attacked Queen Regina's most prized possession, her apple tree."

A soft coo breaks from Hope's lips, passed her pacifier and vibrating against my chest. I place another kiss to her head and gently pat her bottom to help her relax even more.

"Queen Regina never had someone stand up to her quite like the way Princess Emma did. She was the only person who ever attacked the Queen and lived to tell about it. Something deep inside the Queen changed that day, the Princess was somehow able to weasel her way into the Queen's heart. The Queen desperately tried to mask her love for the Savior, but Princess Emma was unlike any other, vowing to stick by the Queen, to bring back her happy ending and to always believe in her. The Queen did everything in her power to protect the Princess, even if it meant letting her go in the end."

My eyes suddenly fill with tears, but I force back the emotions and hold this baby girl closer to soothe my own uneasy heart.

"Queen Regina loved Princess Emma with all her heart, she was the only one to mend the Queen's heart, filling the broken and battered cracks with a love she never knew existed. But as the world continued to spin around them, fate was still demanding that they fulfill their roles, as hero and villain, never meant for love, but destruction."

My lips are already seeking this little girl's head for comfort again as I whisper the ending. "Princess Emma brought another beautiful baby into the world, Princess Hope and the Queen vows to always protect and love this baby girl with all her heart, even if she isn't hers," I sadly confess as a single tear slides down my cheek.

Hope's breathing steadies and her limbs grow heavier and I know she's fast asleep. What I wouldn't give to have this everyday. Of course I have my family now; my son and his family and my sister, niece along with Snow and her family, but it's still very lonely in Storybrooke. I know everyone assumes my happy ending is finally having everyone accept me and respect me for who I am and that is great, but my heart is still utterly alone.

I know that my life is just not destined to be with anyone, but it's not something I can accept. I have so much love in my heart to offer and I just wish there was someone to share it with.

My phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket so I squirm to retrieve it and try not to wake up Hope in the process. Luckily, she remains fast asleep as I check the text message from Emma.

"_I'm leaving work now, is Hope asleep_?"

"_Yes, she's asleep. I'll unlock the door, you can just walk in_."

I quickly type away and flick my wrist, unlocking the front door knowing she will be here in the next five minutes. I place my phone down and close my eyes, soaking in this moment before this little girl is gone and I am left alone in this mansion all over again.

The soft sound of the front door opening and slowly closing resonates through the house, but it's not enough to wake the sleeping beauty. I'm about to sit up, but then this adorable baby snuggles closer into my chest and I melt instantly, making it impossible for my limbs to move.

"Hey," Emma quietly breathes as she enters the room.

"Hey," I reply, my fingers still admiring the silky strands of her dark hair while my other hand rubs up and down her back.

Emma exhales heavily through her nose and I'm unsure if it's a laugh or a sigh, but her permanent frown is more prominent than ever. She kneels down beside the couch and rests her hand against Hope's back provoking my hand to quickly move away.

"How was she?"

"An angel," I murmur, smiling down upon the sweet little girl. "Honestly, she is very sweet and lovable. She didn't cry once."

"Just wait until she gets to know you better," she chuckles lightly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Hope's head, instantly sucking all the air within my lungs when the old familiar scent of vanilla wafts through the air and tingles deliciously through my blood.

"Well, here," I quickly pass Hope over into Emma's arms and scramble off the couch, taking her by surprise from her perplexed expression. "She ate at seven, I'll go grab the rest of your milk in the refrigerator," I mumble, quickly forcing some much needed space between us.

"Oh, uh, kay," she stutters from behind me, settling Hope into her arms more comfortably.

I never thought how vulnerable I would appear lying on the couch with her daughter on my chest. Her voice from so many years ago, rings loudly in my head, "_You look so adorable with a baby on your chest_," from the night that we spent digging through Henry's old boxes. Yet, to her, it was only a little over a year ago.

"Well, here you go." I hastily shove the milk into her diaper bag, silently pleading for her to leave because I can't even take a simple breath when they are both so close.

"Regina, please," she begs and the wobble in her voice is too much to bear. I quickly sling the bag over her shoulder and avoid her eyes as if one glance would turn me to stone. "Reg-"

"You should get this little one home," I softly whisper, gently running my fingers one last time over her head. "I'll walk you to the door," I firmly state, leaving no room for rebuttal, but then again she is Emma Swan.

"I can't keep doing this with you, Regina. We _need_ to talk about this. Please, you're shutting me out for noth-"

"Don't say for nothing, don't you dare say that I'm shutting you out for nothing with that beautiful baby in your arms," I harshly snap right back in the faintest of whispers so we don't wake Hope. I quickly jerk open my front door and motion for her to leave. "Take that baby home, Miss Swan."

Emma grits her teeth and exhales very slowly, her face quickly morphing into a hateful sneer. "Fine, Madam Mayor, but you can't run away from this forever," she steps forward, lingering across the threshold and leaning into my personal space. "And you will regret shutting me out," she confidently states and storms off with her baby close to her chest.

And my heart aches, desperately trying to reach through my chest for both of them.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

"So, you're not up for changing your name either?" I tease my son who is intently reading Granny's menu across from me, as though he's never seen that damn thing before.

"No mom, I've had this name longer, have Wish Henry change it," he chuckles under his breath, his eyes still roaming over the words as if something new will just appear out of nowhere.

"He won't, and we can't just keep calling him Wish Henry."

"What about Onry," he laughs to himself while my eyes roll automatically.

"I'm serious, this is all too confusing."

Henry sets down his menu, straightens his posture, interlocking his fingers upon the table and forcing his most serious expression.

"Yes, lets be serious. How are you and Emma still fighting?" He sternly investigates and I squirm under his scrutiny, the pressure feeling like I am sitting in a cold, damp, interrogation room.

"Henry, it really doesn't concern you and there's no need to drag you into something when you have your own life and family to care for," I conclude, picking up my menu like it's my first time seeing it upon on the table and scanning through it.

"You can't fool me, neither can Emma and you both have been terrible at it for as long as I can remember," he flatly replies.

I snap my menu back down and meet my son's stern gaze. "What are you talking about?"

"Like you don't know."

"Know what?"

"You really want to play this game? You know I will win."

"I have no idea what you speak of," I firmly demand, bringing the menu back up toward my face to keep my son from reading too far into my expressions.

Heat slowly burns a path up my neck, flaring up like a roaring fire against my cheeks creating an unbearable sheen of sweat on the back of my neck. However, I don't budge one single muscle and continue reading over Granny's meatloaf even though I would never touch the disgusting dish.

"Alright, fine," Henry scowls and for the briefest of seconds I exhale in relief believing I just won. And then he opens his mouth again causing every muscle in body to tense instantly. "Where should we start?" To my surprise, he sounds awfully calm.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Uh, you two ready to order?" Granny exasperates, tapping her pencil rapidly against her notepad.

"No, Granny, please give us a few minutes. I need to speak with my mother and knock some sense into her."

"Oh honey, this isn't an overnight establishment," Granny sarcastically retorts, her eyes raining down upon our table over her thick framed glasses.

My mouth pops open with a snarky comment, but the woman quickly rushes off and Henry is leaning further across the table, ready to scold me for something I'm unsure of.

"Mom, I'm not blind. I saw the way you would look at ma whenever Hook was around. I saw the pain all over your face and before you even start, don't try and defend your anger because you despised the man. That has nothing to do with it. Why do you think I wanted to leave my graduation party so early?"

"Oh, Henry-"

"No, mom I saw that look in your eye, you were miserable watching Hook all over Emma."

"We didn't have to leave because of me, honey. I would have never wanted to ruin your night-"

"You didn't ruin my night, please don't think that, but I could not stand to see you so upset. Besides, I was excited to go home and sleep so we could leave the next day." He offers me a crooked smile, one I haven't seen in quite sometime that flashes just a glimpse of my son when he was really little and my heart explodes with love.

He does love me, he always has, like Emma said, he was just confused. This amazing man left his own graduation party because he thought I was suffering. He really is the Savior's son, through and through.

"I-I don't know what to say," I softly mumble, scooting a little further into the table in case other people around us are eavesdropping.

"Look, I know you two grew closer on the trip, it was painfully obvious," he rolls his eyes, but there's a glint of playfulness shining through his annoyance. "I don't want nor do I need the details," he quickly holds up his hand to stop my mouth, but I would never reveal such a thing. "But I do know things changed between you two and I know you both love each other."

"Henry that's all in the past now."

"Is it? Because it's still very present and causing issues between the two of you. Why can't you just talk to her?"

"I can't Henry."

"Why?"

"Please stop pushing."

"No, I need to know. Why won't you talk to her?"

"There's nothing more to say, so drop it," I growl through a clenched jaw, struggling to keep my voice down and my temper from stomping to the surface.

"No, I refuse to drop it. You two are my mothers and it was bad enough watching you two storm around brewing nonsense and drama when I was ten, but now I'm an adult and I can look you square in the eyes and tell you to stop! Stop whatever inner battle you are fighting against and just _talk_ to her," he exasperates, his chest resting heavily against the table as though his scolding sucked all his energy straight from his lungs.

"No, I'm sorry, but Emma and I will never be friends again," I firmly state, pointedly glaring at him to zip that big mouth of his up.

"Why?" He whines, transporting me through time to a little ten year old, sinking in the booth across from me when things didn't go his way.

"Dammit Henry," I slam my menu down and lean further into the table, lowering my voice. "Listen to me young man, when Daniel passed away, I lost my mind and spiraled completely out of control, loosing myself in the process, but I was young and I learned from my mistakes. When I lost Robin, I was older and on my path back to who I was always meant to be, but it still broke me. And when I lost Emma, it nearly killed me, I barely made it out alive and I cannot, I refuse to ever fall down that deep of a hole again."

"Mom-"

"No, Henry. I cannot do it. Every man I have ever kissed, I have lost. Daniel, Graham, Robin, Gold, Facilier. They all have died and I won't do this with Emma."

"But there's one thing that Emma has that those guys didn't."

"And what's that? A fetish for tacky leather jackets?"

"No, she's the Savior and there's no way Emma Swan is just going to keel over from your lips. She's still alive now," he muses, just as the diner's door flings open, forcing my son's eyes to wander curiously behind my shoulder. By the giddy smirk slipping into place I know fate has sent Emma and her baby sweeping through that door. "Besides, they were all men, Emma is not," he whispers through a small chuckle as his other mother graces us with her Savior presences.

"Hey," she huffs, readjusting a squirming Hope upon her hip.

"Hey, ma. Hi Hope," Henry waves so cutely at his little sister as she continues wiggling from her mother like a prey struggling to free itself from a snake's death grip.

"Hope, please," Emma stresses, flipping her onto her other hip. "Jeez, she's so...restless today," she breathes as Hope begins to whimper, "and crabby."

"I'll take her ," Henry holds out his arms which Emma instantly passes her daughter over. Henry sits Hope down on the table in front of himself and smiles from ear to ear. He playfully rests his nose against hers, stilling her wiggling body instantly. "Why you crabby?" He pouts in a robotic voice that I find completely strange, but Hope places her chubby hands upon his cheeks and coos right back.

Emma sighs in relief as her eyes avoid mine like she might actually burst into flames in the middle of the diner if we make a direct connection.

"Thanks kid, I'm going to grab a coffee to go real quick, is that cool?"

"Yeah of course, we are fine, right Hope?" He interrogates, tilting his head back and forth, rubbing their noses together, creating an adorable giggle.

"Thanks," Emma quickly rushes to the counter, encouraging my son's gaze to trail behind his sister and seek me out.

"It's interesting how dark Hope's eyes are becoming..." he trails off, flinging his line of information into the pond and waiting for me to just take the bait. I just hum in response and find the long list of beverages on the menu absolutely fascinating. "I mean Emma has green eyes and Hook has blue..."

"Mmm."

"And Grandma has green and grandpa has blue..."

"Did you know Granny started selling sweet potato fries?"

"I don't have any idea what color Hook's parents have, but I assume one must have been light for him to inherit blue..."

"Has Granny always served Quesadillas?"

"So, isn't it very peculiar how Hope has brown eyes?"

"Her eyes are hazel," I casually reply, still reading over the menu as a distraction.

"No, no they are definitely brown."

"I watched her last week, they are hazel," I firmly demand as Hope's entire body stiffens, before she flings her body back, trying to escape her brother's clutches.

I peek over my menu and study the way Hope's little body straightens, as stiff as a board. She throws her head back, grunting and whimpering from her frustrations while Henry attempts to keep her calm and still.

"Look," Henry flips Hope around, standing her up on his lap as she bounces excitedly. "Her eyes are brown."

I groan under my breath and place my menu down. I lean into the table and inspect these eyes that I have memorized by now after spending an evening peering into them. Hope bounces cheerfully as her pudgy little hands reach out for me.

"They must have changed," I flippantly reply, picking my menu back up again. "This is about the time they change, six months to a year," I inform my son.

"She seems to want you," Henry softly states, stretching his baby sister across our table just as Emma comes strutting back up with a smug grin dancing mischievously across her face.

"She is just restless like your mother said," I coldly reply, because I refuse to allow Henry and Emma an opportunity to gang up on me.

"I'll take her," Emma gently says, reaching out with one arm for Hope while she holds her coffee cup at a safe distance, knowing this little girl will jump at the chance to knock it right from her mother's hand. "We should get going."

"Hey, when did Hope's eyes get so dark?" Henry inquires, his curious eyes glancing back in my direction before focusing on Emma while I flinch at the question.

"A few days ago," Emma distractedly mumbles as her head bobs and weaves to try and catch a glimpse of Hope's irises as she squirms ruthlessly. "I've noticed every day for the past month now they've been slowly turning into a darker shade. They're a beautiful brown with hints of golden flecks, almost like honey," Emma beams with such pride as she smiles back at her little girl.

"They are really cool," Henry gradually agrees, his eyes drifting slowly back toward my direction.

"Well, I should be going," Hope whimpers and struggles against her mother's clutches again, "I believe someone is hungry," she giggles, scrunching up her nose and attacking Hope's neck with playfully kisses, inspiring the sweetest baby giggles to fill the diner this dreary afternoon.

"Bye mom, bye bye Hope," Henry waves and sends my heart swooning at how adorable he is with his baby sister.

Emma doesn't mutter another word as she confidently saunters out of the diner with a coffee in one hand and her baby on her hip. I sigh once I hear the door slam shut, now I can finally breathe again without her clouding my judgement. There has to be something I can do to finally break free from the love of Emma Swan.

"Mom, please explain Hope's eyes," my son calmly requests, lowering his voice for just my ears and not the other nosy patrons filling Granny's this afternoon.

"What would you like me to say? I cannot explain why a baby's eye color is the way that it is, that is out of my control."

"Mom, one pair of blue eyes and one pair of green offers a fifty-fifty chance of the baby having blue or green and a _zero_ percent chance at brown," he strictly informs me like some professor explaining his facts for the tenth time to some poor schmuck that cannot comprehend the material.

"What do you want from me Henry?" I exasperate just as Granny pads right up to our table with her pen and notepad ready to go.

"Granny, we still need a few minutes," Henry sighs, offering the woman a weak smile.

"I already told you this isn't an overnight establishment, but maybe you two can close up tonight," she rolls her eyes and wanders to the next table in need of her services.

"Come on mom, don't tell me you don't see it."

"See, what?" I over annunciate as my patience slowly sweeps out every inch of my body.

"That Hope looks just like you," he smiles with so much affection twinkling in his eyes that I almost miss the importance of his words.

_Almost_.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I bark out, leaning heavily across the table so nobody else can hear our hushed whispers.

"Seriously? You don't see those big brown eyes that are almost identical to yours? Or her dark hair?"

"Besides her coloring, she looks nothing like me. That baby is all Emma," I declare with all the confidence that runs smugly through my veins.

"Wow, you really are in denial."

"No, I'm logical. Physically, biologically, scientifically, that baby cannot be mine and you know that Henry," I scold, somewhat shaming him for being so naive.

"But _magically_, she is," and there isn't even a hint of waver in his voice. He's not questioning or fishing for more information, no it's a firm declaration of pure fact stomping from his mouth. "Clearly that night I went out to that frat party, something happened between you and Emma."

"Henry-"

"I thought I was drunk and seeing things when I woke up in the middle of the night and wandered into the living room to find you and Emma curled up on the couch together, clinging to each other like you both might die if the other escaped. But obviously I wasn't. I know something happened and I know damn well that, that baby is not Hook's and I'm fairly certain you know it too, but are too terrified to listen to reason."

My eyes shift all around my son's stern gaze and for once in my life, I cannot find the strength to deny anything anymore. I know he knows and I know he knows that I know. I'm just so tired of fighting and I can't do it any longer.

"You're right."

"What?"

"You're right, something did happen to Emma and I, but we were in a land without magic and we are _not_ True Loves, I just don't think it's possible for Hope to be mine," I coldly reply and wave Granny over before my son has a chance to rebuttal anything more.

I would love for that precious baby to be mine, but it's just not possible and I will not spend my days yearning for a baby that will never be mine, only to break my heart even more. I drank a potion that forbid me from reproducing, but everyone seems to be forgetting this small detail.

The moment Granny turns to put our order into the kitchen, Henry is instantly on me like a pesky fly to a sweet fruit.

"Do you love her?"

"What?"

"Do. You. Love. Her?"

I grit my teeth and for the first time in a very long time, I glare at son with fury thumping viciously in my heart. I hold his gaze, but he's right there, as ruthless as his blonde mother when challenging me, refusing to back down.

"Of course I love her," I scoff under my breath and roll my eyes, hoping I come off annoyed rather than hopelessly devoted.

"Then you need to talk to her."

"What is with you and your meddling grandmother? I am not speaking to her. She is with Hook and I will _not_ break up their home. They are happy now. She has moved on. It's over!"

"You're wrong mom, you are both so stubbornly wrong," he angrily replies and falls back against his seat, finally admitting defeat and ending our conversation until our food arrives.

XXXXXXXXX 

After a terrible lunch with Henry that ruined the rest of my day and left a dark storm cloud hovering over my head, I finished a few things at work before heading home. I still can't stand coming home too early and facing the deafening silence that encourages me to seek out a rather large bottle of wine to soothe my emotions.

After I pour myself a hefty amount of the dark mulberry liquid, I curl up on the couch and decide to lose myself in a wonderful novel. However, my mind is an utter mess, resembling a garbage can that has been knocked over by a fierce wind and scattering its contents all around. I'm rereading paragraph after paragraph, my eyes scrolling through the words, but never registering them as my mind focuses on Henry's accusation earlier. Hope.

How on Earth could Hope be mine?

Even if she is, and that's a big _if_, but for a moment I will play along and pretend that she is mine. Emma herself said we were never meant for love, only destruction, how the hell can we raise a baby together in a world of dysfunction. We could never be together and that would only crush Hope in the end. That poor baby deserves the world, not two mothers who can never seem to get their shit together. The only way any of this could ever work is if Emma and I coparent and we split custody with Hope, just like we did with Henry.

That's what Emma and I are good at. Friends. Coparents. Placing our child's needs before ours and working together to raise our child to be the best version of themselves. That's all we know how to be together and we actually do really well at that.

A fierce buzzing rattles against my marble table beside my couch, commanding my full attention. I quickly place my book down and scoop up my phone, sighing heavily when I discover a picture message from Emma. My mind doesn't think twice as my finger is already swiping across the screen to see what she has waiting for me.

My eyes widen when I find a picture of just myself. I know it's when we were in California, that much is apparent, but I had no idea that she even took this picture. I appear lost in though as I gaze out the window of the train, examining the world as it effortlessly flies passed me. I do recall Henry and I asking why Emma seemed so fluster when our son tried to sneak a peek of her phone and now I can only assume it's because she snuck this picture.

Below the picture a simple text is written.

_When the world finally stopped spinning and I found peace._


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

To say I am torn is the understatement of the century. For the past four days, Emma has been sending pictures of our little family on the California trip. I completely ignored the first message with her cryptic words that pierced my heart and left a gaping wound in its awake. She didn't bother sending anything else that night, most likely too mortified by her bluntness to push for anything more, which I was thankful for.

The next day another picture appeared on my screen, but this time there were no words to follow and the image was a more neutral one, the first moment we captured together on the train, which I was aware of compared to the last. I decided to reply with something vague and most importantly friendly. "_Henry looks so young_." Simple. Easy. Not at all insinuating or can be misconstrued in any form.

Later that evening I received another message, where she casually stated, "_I miss those days_." I chose to leave the conversation at that and not continue to lead her on with anything more. The following day another picture was sent, another one that was easy to suspect as just friends and nothing more. Three smiling faces, squinting against the bright sun with the enormous Hollywood sign in back of us. Despite my best efforts, I smiled at the phone for a full twenty-four hours, never responding.

I've ignored her once again and this time she didn't offer any other sentimental values. However, karma was livid at my poor behavior and decided it was in her best interest to punish me. Thus placing the sheriff with her fussy baby and I awkwardly in the middle of an aisle with nobody else in the store.

"Hey," Emma softly greets me with her fingers methodically combing through Hope's silky strands.

The beautifully baby is sucking rather aggressively on her purple butterfly pacifier with big wide eyes, red rimmed, that express how tired she is. She's sitting in the front of the cart, already in fuzzy neon green footie pajamas with a permanent pout like her mother.

"Hello," I politely reply and step to move passed her, but she quickly blurts out her concerns, stilling my feet from officially fleeting.

"Hey, so my mom keeps bugging me, saying Hope needs to eat more and that she's hungry. Whale said I need to wait until six months, but between you and me, I think my mom might be right," she whispers, never wanting her secret to leak from our small grocery bubble. I raise one eyebrow in questioning, encouraging her to proceed. "It's just Hope isn't sleeping through the night and she's always so mad when she's finished drinking her bottle."

Emma's worried eyes drift back down to her daughter, her fingers still trailing through her hair for comfort. Hope faintly smiles up at her mother, but the exhaustion is clouding her big brown eyes.

"Okay," is all I can mutter because I'm not sure if she is seeking my opinion or is just in need of a friend to vent to.

"So, what do you think?" She timidly asks, her eyes still glued onto her daughter.

"Don't listen to Whale, do what is best for you and your baby," I firmly state before taking another step to escape this awkward interaction that has my heart pounding dangerously against my chest, threatening to bruise my sternum.

"Okay, but which one should I get? Rice? Oatmeal? Oatmeal with apples? Oatmeal with bananas?" She rambles off the few options on the shelf while Hope scrambles in her seat, reaching in my direction.

I glance at the beautiful baby, with her arms stretched out and those adorable baby noises coming from her pacifier. My lips purse as my mind screams for my arms to remain at my sides and not pick her up. Hope groans, wiggling in the confines of her seatbelt, reluctant to forfeit her idea of escaping. My eyes narrow informing her to stay put as Emma scans the shelf.

"Regina?"

"Hmmm."

"What do you suggest?" She softly questions, inspiring my hand to reach across her and claim the box labeled Oatmeal.

"I found the rice always upset Henry's stomach, oatmeal was gentler and easy for him to digest. After she finishes this box you can try the banana or apple flavored, but you need to make sure she's not allergic, only offering her that one flavor for three days straight."

"Alright," she mindlessly replies as her eyes scan the box before her. A sudden cry shreds through the moment of silence, startling Emma and I. We both turn to Hope who is crying, just pleading to be released from the seat. "Aww, baby you're alright." Emma places the box down in the cart and quickly moves to wipe away Hope's thick tears.

"You should probably get her home," I sadly vocalize because the look in her pitiful brown eyes is just too much.

"Wait," she anxiously calls out, unbuckling her daughter from the cart to hold her close against her chest. "Do I feed this to her? Or do I mix a little in her bottle?"

Emma bounces from left to right, her palm firmly against Hope's head, but the wailing baby is wrestling against her mother and reaching for me once again. The exhausted mother peers down at her baby with a matching pout painted across her thin lips.

"It seems she's taken quite a shine to you," Emma teases, throwing my words right back in my face from the first occurrence when she spent time with Henry. I purse my lips, struggling to keep my smirk hidden, but Emma just leans into my side. "Do you mind?" She innocently questions with those stunning green eyes blinking back at me and of course I melt.

"Of course not," I lie, hating myself for feeling so torn between loving this baby and keeping my distance to protect my own heart.

Emma carefully passes Hope into my embrace, one arm sliding beneath her diaper bottom and my other hand gently rubbing her back to sooth her cries. Hope instantly finds comfort in playing with the ends of my hair as she sucks her pacifier even harder.

"Funny how calm she is with you," Emma insinuates as she examines the way I hold her baby close.

"I learned very quickly after Henry's frantic cries, how to relax with a baby in my arms." Emma hums and I swear I can see little hearts beating in her eyes. "Do you have baby bowls and spoons?" I hastily change the subject.

"Uh, no." I nod in the direction of the various options displayed before us. "Which is best?" She curiously questions as her hand reaches out to inspect each package carefully.

"A spoon is a spoon," Emma's annoyed eyes dart in my direction, glaring at me for my unwanted remark. I sigh and nod again toward the ones I used with Henry. "Those, they are softer for her gums and the color of the spoon changes if it's too hot."

"I have to warm this?" She quickly drops the spoons and lifts the box of oatmeal back up to read the instructions.

"Not that, but I suggest warming the vegetables for her."

"Oh." The sheriff sets down the box again and turns back to the spoons and bowls.

"Emma, why are you freaking out? You've done this before."

"I have not," she coldly argues, never once glancing in my direction.

I notice how my body subconsciously began to sway from side to side as Hope continues to play with my hair. I glance down at the tired little baby, her eyes still red from crying as she is rapidly sucking hard on her pacifier like she just might be able to squeeze some milk right out. I fight the urge to kiss her forehead in front of her mother and continue rubbing her back.

"Emma, you have, don't you still have all those memories from when Henry was a baby?"

"It's not the same, Regina. I know in my heart that I did not feed him baby food or change his diaper or soothe his fevers. I have memories of doing them, but I know that was all you. It wasn't me, and it most certainly wasn't real," she confesses and it's a cross between frustration, sadness and pure exhaustion.

"But you still should know how to do everything," I carefully rebuttal, not wanting to upset her or Hope anymore.

"It's not the same. I know I did not do those things. I'm all too aware of the fact that this is my first time with everything," and this time it's all sadness coating her words and for some strange reason I feel guilty.

"Well, look at this baby," I smile down at Hope as she nuzzles just below my chin. "She's obviously healthy and she's usually very happy, so I know you're doing everything right," I lovingly express, even though my heart is aching and my tongue sudden feels far too big for my own mouth.

"Regina-"

"She's calm now," I slowly lean Hope back against Emma and watch as the corky blonde scrambles to lift her baby into her arms. "Take her home, feed her the oatmeal with a small bottle after and watch how soundly she sleeps tonight."

"Wait, can you come back with me and help me?" She anxiously implores, forcing my eyes to meet her terrified gaze.

"That's what Hook is for."

"No it's not, beside he's patrolling Neverland tonight," she rapidly fires back before I can disappear. "What if she chokes?"

The most stunning set of eyes are glistening back at me, hopelessly begging for my help, but I can't. I can't muster up the courage to help her take care of Hope knowing how badly I want them for my own.

"You'll be just fine, Emma. I believe in you. I need to get going anyway," I politely decline, offering a small smile before scooting passed two sets of eyes pleading with me to stay.

I quickly rush out of that store so fast that I don't even buy the one item I needed. My palms are sweating, my heart is racing faster than my feet and there's this awful sensation clawing at my intestines for being so selfish and leaving them behind.

I'm not exactly sure how, but I do end up inside of Granny's, ready to toss back a few shots to end this misery eating away inside of me. Except the moment I step inside I'm faced with an even bigger tragedy.

Captain Sperm Donor is sitting at the counter with a glass of rum spinning in his only hand. His back is toward the door so I know he has yet to see me, besides his gaze is focused on someone else, a girl who is leaning in too close for comfort. They seem to be lost in their private conversation, ignorant to the rest of the world around them and how inappropriate this may appear to an outsider.

Blue-green eyes slowly crawl into my direction over Hook's black leather jacket and we make direct eye contact just as I hear his pathetic voice.

"I don't know what to do, I want to tell her, but I can't. She deserves to know the truth," he sighs heavily before tossing back his drink and slamming the glass down so roughly that I wince, waiting for the sounds of shattering glass to follow.

I don't truly consider what is occurring in front of me, all I know is Hook is here, drinking with Tinkerbell when according to Emma, he's suppose to be patrolling in Neverland. From first glance, my mind screams, _cheating_, _lying, bastard_! I don't even care if he is cheating or not in this moment because I'm more upset by the fact that Emma is alone, panicking in a grocery store over her baby and Hook is here, drinking with another woman.

"Uh, right," Tink stutters as her eyes stay locked onto my body as I stomp murderously across the diner.

My heels click with vengeance and determination, ready to rip this Jack Sparrow wannabe's heart right through his back, just to cause more damage and unbearable pain. Hook must sense Tink's fear or apprehension, because he abruptly spins around on his stool to discover me already reaching out to shove him. I want to rip his heart out and crush his useless organ, but I can't because of Hope and that wouldn't be fair to murder her father. I want to unleash my clenched fist against his jaw and break it so he can't eat for months, but I can't because I don't want to cause Emma anymore unnecessary stress.

So, I shove him, forcing him against the counter and provoking Tink to slide back in her stool away from Hook's personal space.

"You son of a-," I growl under my breath and by the frazzled, flabbergasted and bewildered expression tormenting his face, he really has no idea how dumb he truly is.

"Regina, what-"

"No, you don't get to speak," I firmly declare, holding up my finger to punctuate the severity in my words. He quickly snaps his mouth, but his eyes travel to the blonde fairy behind me for back up, thankfully she has enough common sense to remain silent. "How dare you sit here, tossing back your childish drink when you should be out patrolling Neverland." His mouth pops open to argue, but I lean forward, evaporating any thoughts left in his minuscule brain. "If you refuse to work because your alcohol induced brain cannot comprehend the idea of holding a real job, then you should be at home with Emma who is a nervous wreck right now over Hope," I scold him, shoving his shoulder once more for good measure and maybe because my hand is buzzing to violate him in some way.

"What's wrong with Hope?" He at least has the decency to appear frightened for his child.

"You would know if you weren't here spewing your pirate nonsense onto another innocent soul," I rudely comment, catching a quick glance of Tinkerbell who appears just as perplexed as he.

"Regina, you need to calm down," my friend whispers as she straightens her posture to appear more confident.

"Don't you dare," I growl, inching closer to her face. "What are you doing here with him? You should be telling him to go to work or go home to his family."

"Regina, lower your voice."

"I will not."

"What's wrong with Hope," Hook quickly interjects, forcing his scruffy face between Tink and I.

"Why are you not on patrol?" I avoid the question to allow the panic to fester deep inside and eat away at his alcohol soaked intestines.

"Its not my night," he angrily defends, his eyes shifting to the woman behind me that he seems so invested in this evening.

"I'm on patrol tonight, I'm supposed to leave in twenty minutes," Tink quickly confirms his statement, but I'm left more confused because Emma specifically said Hook was on patrol tonight.

"Why would Emma lie?" I skeptically interrogate, standing taller on my heels and leaning closer for intimidation.

"I don't know," Hook shrugs as his face contorts into painfully dumb, but I don't buy his feeble replies.

"Then why are you here with Tink instead of at home with Emma and Hope?" I continue investigating not wanting to back down until I come up with a logical explanation to all of this.

"Regina," he sighs, his stupid face draining from all color and for a moment I think he might be sick. On instinct my feet shuffle back two steps. "I can't keep lying."

"Then don't! If you don't want to be with Emma anymore then at least have the decency to tell her to her face instead of going behind her back and cheating like a scumbag. As much as you like to think you're still _Captain_ _Hook_, this is Storybrooke and you are no longer a pirate here anymore. That type of behavior is unacceptable and I refuse to sit back and watch you destroy Hope's life."

"I'm not doing this anymore," Hook angrily states as he stands from his stool and tosses down a twenty on the bar. "You have no idea what you are talking about."

"Hook, don't," Tink implores, her eyes narrowing on the slimy asshole to please keep his secrets locked away, but he's violently shaking his head.

"Come on, _Your Majesty_," he spits with venom as his hand reaches out for my elbow.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hiss, not wanting to draw anymore attention to us because I'm vaguely aware of the nosy eyes soaking up every move we make.

"I'm settling this once and for all, let's go!"

He reaches for my arm again to drag me out of Granny's, but I'm far quicker and dodge his unwanted touch.

"I'm very capable of walking on my own without a drunken escort."

"I'm not drunk, but fine, let's go," he gestures toward the door, wordlessly demanding that we take this outside.

"Hook," Tink pleads again, resting her hand on his forearm. "Emma," is all she says with her big eyes begging him to reconsider.

"No, this has gone on long enough. I'm done. No more games. No more lies," he firmly declares before storming across the diner and out the door.

I hastily follow his lead, ready to be free from the busybody's of Storybrooke and unleash my wrath on this pathetic excuse for a man. The door slams shut behind me, announcing my raging presence, but the former pirate never once glances in my direction.

"I know how this all seems," he begins in a calm and gentle tone, "but I can't keep living a lie, even if that means infuriating Emma, which I know it will. But this ends, tonight." Hook sadly turns on his heel and heads for the sidewalk leading to his home, while I stand there, completely puzzled in his sudden change in behavior. "Let's go, Regina," he calls over his shoulder, provoking my eyebrows to pinch painfully together.

"Excuse me?"

"We need to speak with Emma, let's go," he nods toward the dark street with sporadic lampposts guiding the path to Emma's house.

"This is between you two, husband and wife, I most certainly should not be there," I coldly demand, lingering over the invisible line between the sidewalk and Granny's diner. I fold my arms across my chest, silently demanding my refusal, but this man is not accepting my rejection.

"No Regina, you have to be there. It's time to face reality."


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

There's a bitter sharp bite to the wind as I follow Hook down the streets of Storybrooke, back to his house with Emma. I should know better by now that it's not just the cool evening breeze that's causing the cruel icy bite, but instead a foreshadowing of what's to come once I step foot in the Swan-Jones' home.

I'm dreading this conversation to the point where my anxiety is actually making my stomach twist and turn into knots not even the pirate can tie. I'm swallowing down the large mass of fear swelling in the back of my throat but that action is only causing more nausea. My muscles are quivering involuntarily and for a moment I believe my worst moment in life where Emma Swan sat by and watched me vomit uncontrollably on that airplane, is about to occur all over again. Except it's worse because it would be Hook watching me this time.

We climb the wooden porch leading up to their house and I remain a few steps behind him so he doesn't notice the trembling buzzing from my body. He pauses just before he opens the front door, persuading my eyes to finally look up from the ground and scrutinize how he knocks instead of unlocking the door and walking right in.

My brows furrow from the confusion and just as my mouth pops open to question the peculiar act, Emma swings open the front door. She smiles at first, but when her eyes flick to her former friend lingering behind her husband, her face falls.

Hope is cradled comfortably against Emma's chest in one arm, drinking her bottle, while Emma's other hand is clenching the doorknob so tight she's effectively cut off all blood circulation through her fingers.

"Uh..." is all that tumbles from her mouth that's hanging open.

"We need to talk," Hook sternly informs her, encouraging the sheriff's feet to shuffle backwards and grant us permission inside. Which I still find rather odd since they share this home.

I gently close the door behind me, not wanting to disturb the sleepy baby peacefully drinking her bottle. Emma's eyes suspiciously bounce from her husband's to mine, repeatedly as she waits for someone to explain the sudden reunion.

"Uh, I guess we can take a seat in the living room?" She meekly suggests, so unsure of what to say or how to approach this situation, but I myself feel exactly the same way.

"I don't believe it's appropriate that I am here," I voice my opinion and glance back at the former pirate, "but he demanded that I come."

"Killian," she warns, her tone growing colder and more accusing as her eyes narrow, but he simply shakes his head.

"No, enough. I can't go on like this. It ends tonight," he assertively declares, marching straight into the living room and flicking on the lights. "Take a seat, Regina," he sternly commands and by his tone, I know there's no room for argument and something in my gut is telling me to sit down and listen to what needs to be said.

I quietly claim a seat at the far end of her long silky grey couch, practically becoming one with the armrest while Emma sinks down onto the opposite end, resting Hope's head on the armrest. Hook stands in front of the fireplace, pacing like a madman as he sorts through his thoughts. I notice right away how Emma busies herself with Hope; tracing her soft cheek and button nose, studying her like she's never really seen her before, ultimately turning my insides to mush.

"Emma, would you like to start?" Hook offers, tearing glistening green eyes away from her baby girl to meet his stoic gaze.

They peer into each other's eyes, holding a silent conversation for a brief moment before Emma nods curtly. She doesn't take her eyes off her husband when she says, "I've been trying to explain everything, but you won't listen." My eyes flick between the two because I'm not really sure who she is speaking to yet. "Regina," she swallows thickly and finally turns just a tiny bit to face me, "there's just no way Killian is Hope's father."

"Emma, we've been through this-"

"Regina," Hook quickly interrupts me with such a stern tone, I find my mouth slamming shut immediately. "You need to listen. Emma and I hadn't slept together before or after the trip. The dates do _not_ add up."

"When we came back from Henry's new realm, I went straight to Whale and he did an ultrasound. Hope was conceived the week of the California trip and there is only one person I slept with," Emma explains, while Hook shifts uncomfortably in front of us and my blood boils just below the surface.

"Emma, no. There's no way it's possible. We are two women, we were in a land without magic, we do not have true love and need I remind you that I drank a potion to ensure I could never reproduce."

"I don't care what your excuses are anymore Regina, you're the only person I have been with and I would like you to take a paternity test," she requests with conviction.

My stomach curls and twists so painfully from the thought of Hope actually being mine, that I almost double over in pain. My eyes flick to Hook's and for the first time I actually notice the pain swelling in those baby blues.

"Hook?" My mouth suddenly spews because I need to hear what this man has to say.

He's Emma's husband, he watched her stomach grow for nine months, I assume he was there when Hope was born and he's been watching her grow ever since. I have seen him feed her and play with her and carry her around like she is his and he stares at her like she's his everything.

Thick tears well up in my eyes and suddenly my mouth is filling with a bitter acid that forcefully stops anymore words from forming.

His eyes flutter closed as he slowly shakes his head. "Hope's not mine. I've known all along." He swallows hard to bury the emotions tickling at the back of his throat before his eyes finally open and meet mine. "We didn't think we'd ever see you again, so I vowed to help Emma and stay by her side. After everything, I still love Emma," his eyes trail back to green ones that are shimmering with emotions and they both smile at one another. "It's a different type of love now and I just couldn't abandon her and the baby."

"Regina," Emma softly whispers and that's when I notice Hope is fast asleep in her arms. "Killian and I aren't together. He promised to help me with Hope, whatever we may need and he's been wonderful. He went to some of the doctor's appointments when my mother couldn't attend, he helped me set up her room, he sat in the waiting room while my mom was in the delivery room with me and he even helps now, whenever I need a sitter. He's been so supportive and helped through everything, knowing Hope is not his."

"I love her, as if she were my own, but I always remind myself that she's not mine. I still want to be apart of her life. Take her fishing, teach her how to sail, but I understand that she has two parents already," Hook sadly explains and that's when I feel a warm tear sliding down my cheek. "See, you were wrong about what you saw in the diner..."

"What happened in the diner?" Emma curiously questions, this new information piquing her interest.

"Regina saw me with Tink."

"Oh," a small smile graces Emma's face, confusing my mind all over again. "Regina, like I said, Killian and I are not together. Actually, we have become best friends now, but anyways he's with Tink now. They found happiness and I am happy for them," she softly divulges as her fingers dance soothingly across Hope's head.

"I-" my words become lost in a sea of emotions and I'm not quite sure what to say at this point.

"How about I take the little tike upstairs, tuck her in and you two can speak in private?" Killian suggests as he bends down and scoops Hope into his arms.

"Wait!" Emma laughs as she jumps from the couch and rushes into the other room.

"I do see where Emma is coming from," Hook absentmindedly says as his eyes take in Hope's peaceful face. "Her eyes, those cheeks, her hair," his shiny blue irises dart back toward me, "she's all you, Your Majesty," he quietly confesses, ceasing my heart and stealing all the air from my lungs.

"Here," Emma breathes out with a pink rubber piece in her hand. Hook chuckles softly, not to disturb sleeping beauty as Emma slides the rubber guard onto the tip of his metal hook. "Thanks."

"No problem," he smiles before heading upstairs with Hope still fast asleep.

Emma exhales slowly as she cautiously slides back down onto the couch. She tucks one leg beneath her and fiddles with the stitching on her jeans as a distraction. "So..."

I swallow back the urge to empty the contents of my stomach and think about what I really want to say, but for some horrifying reason, I cannot think of one word to say. Clearly finding out that I have a daughter is the one thing that can effectively render me speechless.

"So, are you going to take the test?" Emma tentatively questions, expressing just how nervous she is about all of this.

"You knew," I'm not sure if it's a question or a spiteful acknowledgement, but it's the first thing that slips passed my dry lips.

"To be fair, I tried telling you a lot, but you refused to listen to reason and you constantly cut me off," she defends, immediately growing defensive, but I just slump in defeat, because she's right and I have no right to be angry in the moment.

Except that I am, I'm furious, livid, but that rage is all for myself. If I would have just listened, things could have turned out so differently, but still, I have my speculations and doubts about all of this.

"Emma, I told you about the potion, I'm barren," I softly argue.

"I understand, but I'm telling you Regina there's no other explanation. Can you please just take the test so we can move on and put all these unanswered questions to rest? Maybe we can speak with Blue, maybe she has a logical explanation."

"Alright," I gently agree, the word just barely making it passed my lips.

"Why are you so abnormally quiet?"

"I-I honestly don't know what to say," I croak out through my dry throat and I wince at how unsure and distorted my voice sounds when it resonates back in my ears.

"Okay..." she stretches out the word for as long as possible as she continues picking at her jeans. "Well, do you even want to know if she's yours? Would you even want her?"

This awakens the fierce mayor within and smacks me back to reality. "What? How could you even ask that? Of course I want her. I've wanted her since the day you told me you were pregnant," I firmly declare, my body running hot from the rude accusation against me.

"Then why did you run?" Her furious eyes flick to mine in a challenge that I didn't realize how much I truly missed until now. "Why didn't you just stay? We could have worked something out. Even if she was Hook's you knew I wanted to be with _you_," she implores for a reasonable explanation and the pain flickering in her eyes sends a searing blade straight through my heart.

"I thought she was Hook's and I thought she deserved both of her parents without some evil villain ripping her family apart. It wasn't fair and you thought so yourself."

"But I knew in my heart that he wasn't the father, why couldn't you have believed me?" Her voice trembles recklessly and I know she's on the verge of tears.

"It just didn't make sense, it still doesn't make sense."

"You're seriously still denying her?" She accusingly spits in my face with hurt and rejection etching bitterly into her pale complexion.

"I'm not denying her! I just-it's hard to believe."

"Well Killian took a DNA test the day she was born just to confirm our suspicions and it came back negative. He's not her father and you are the only other person I slept with. Are you still so unsure?"

"Why are you lashing out on me? Any sane person would have suspected exactly what I did. I'm not the bad guy here, I was trying to do the right thing!"

"Well congratulations, you nice guyed your way out of your daughter's life!"

And that right there is what crushes every piece deep inside of me. '_Your daughter_'. My daughter. I have a daughter of my own and I missed out on her life inside of Emma and I missed the day she was brought into the world and I missed the last five months of her life.

Burning hot tears rapidly fill my eyes and the brick of emotions I just collided with is far too much to ignore or force away. There are no words to describe the sensation filling my heart from the idea of that precious, beautiful baby being a part of me and a part of Emma.

"Regina?" She timidly questions and I can only assume how tormented I must appear right now.

"I swear I didn't know," I choke on the words, attempting to justify my actions, but I know the truth is I abandoned her and our baby and there's just no excuse.

"I know you didn't," she scoots forward just a hair and rests her hand upon my thigh. "I do know you better than anyone and I know you would have never left if you thought for one second that Hope was yours," she sincerely whispers, but it doesn't ease the pain crumpling my heart like a flimsy piece of paper.

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't there...god...I-I missed so much," I try to keep my heavy sob trapped inside my mouth so I sniffle away the tears.

"She's only five months old, Regina. She'll never know that you weren't here."

My head falls back to the couch as I press my fists into my eyes, pleading with myself not to cry. I've missed out on so much and those are rare and precious moments that I can never get back. I understand that Hope will never know the difference, but _I_ know and it will haunt me for the rest of my life.

"Hey," Hook's gentle voice, catches my attention, forcing me to wipe away my tears and face reality once again. "She's fast asleep, I'm going to take off and give you two some space."

"Sure," Emma quickly stands up and walks him to the front door. "Thanks again," she whispers as she opens the door.

"No problem," he glances back at me and offers a weak smile before he slips out the door.

Emma nervously shuffles back into the room and sits down at the opposite end of the couch again, offering me some space to breathe in this moment.

"So...are you going to take the test?"

"Of course I am. I need to know the truth." She nods along, but it's so abundantly clear that she has no idea what to say next and even if she does, she is far too nervous to say what's really on her mind. "Does anyone besides Hook know?"

"Well, everyone knows she isn't Hook's, but I have avoided the question of sperm donor," she teases, but my heart isn't in it. "My mom and dad know that I am adamant about you, but they are waiting for the paternity test as well to confirm."

I groan, my head automatically rolling back against the couch once again to stare aimlessly at the ceiling above. "Did your father threaten to hunt me down? Is your mother ready to burn me at the stake?"

"No," and out of my peripheral vision I catch her rolling those big green eyes playfully. "They were shocked at first, but you know my mom, she's the spokes person for happy endings. I'm fairly confident she receives a commission for every happy ending that she forces upon people. I'm sure the payment was pretty hefty for the Evil Queen and Savior creating a baby from true love."

"What?" I shriek, lifting my head to meet her gaze.

"I'm kidding," she exasperates.

"No, does Snow really believes that we..."

"We..."

"True love?" I question through my dry, scratchy throat.

"Oh...uh...yeah, she thinks it's the only way we could have created Hope in a land without magic," she replies, anxiously fiddling with her fingers to avoid my stern gaze.

"And what do you believe?"

Emma groans, rolling her eyes and neck in a way that reminds me so much of our son. "I think we need to speak with Blue." I nod just once, unsure of what to believe in this moment. My thoughts are all scrambled and shuffling from one thought to the next that I can't actually process a thing right now. There's far too much information and yet not enough to think coherently. "So, where do we go from here?"

"I believe tomorrow we visit Whale and have him do a paternity test and then depending on the results, we take it from there."

"And...us?"

"I think it's best if we just focus on one thing at a time. We need to confirm that Hope is really mine before we discuss anything else and we need to speak with Blue about how all of this was possible if I'm barren and she was conceived in a land without magic," I firmly explain, but I can't even begin to process our relationship right now, Hope is my top priority right now.

I did just spend ten years trying to get over Emma Swan, even though it really didn't work, because I love her just as much as the day I left, at least I know I can survive. Do I really want to put myself out there again and risk the heartache all over? I don't know if my heart can take anymore abuse.

"I understand," she claims, but the thick sadness coating her words tells a different story of hurt and rejection. "Well tomorrow I'll call Whale and set up an appointment and then I'll call Blue and see if she will meet us to discuss everything."

"Thank you," I politely offer as I stand from her couch. She studies my moves carefully as I proceed to her front door, eventually I make it close enough that she leaps from the couch and meets me in the foyer. The idea of leaving them both behind tonight breaks my heart and suddenly..."Would it be alright if I peeked in her room before I leave? I promise I won't wake her."

"Oh, of course. This way," she smiles, leading the path up the stairs quietly while I follow her every move, careful not to make a sound.

The hall light is already on when we reach the second floor and I follow her down the hall into a room across from what I assume is her bedroom. Then again, I've never really been up here, except once when she was the Dark One and I was searching for her, but I never paid close attention because I was so worried about her at the time.

Emma steps aside and motions for me to enter. The room is glowing in a soft pale yellow from Hope's nightlight that projects stars above her crib. I frown, realizing how much I don't actually know about my daughter and tip toe into her room. A beautiful cherry wood crib is pressed up against the far wall and the craftsmanship is so intricate that I assume Marco built this for them.

Carefully, I peek over the crib to find Hope peacefully sleeping on her back. Her little hands are placed on either side of her head as she sleeps soundly in her purple fuzzy pajamas that has a butterfly embroidered onto the left chest. Her dark long lashes are fluttering as she dreams and her thin pale lips are slightly parted as she breathes a steady rhythm and my heart aches again knowing I've missed so much.

Unconditional love swells in my heart as I watch this beautiful baby sleep and there's nothing I have ever longed for like the temptation of scooping her up in my arms and holding her close again. My fingers are already itching to sweep her dark silky strands to one side as I watch her chest slowly rise and fall.

"She won't wake up, she's usually a deep sleeper...once she's down," Emma softly whispers from the doorway and I know she's unsure if she should step inside or give us some privacy.

I just nod, still worried I might wake her, but then my fingers are stretching forward and delicately brushing her hair to one side. I smile down at Hope once the loving sensation washes through my body and I just wish I could take her home with me.

Slowly, I creep away from her crib and back out the door. Emma and I cannot find a word to say as I follow her back downstairs and to her front door. She turns the knob and swings the door wide for me to exit, but I pause and tentatively smile at her.

"I am so sorry, about everything."

"I know, Regina. I do understand."

"Thank you for allowing me to say goodnight."

"She's your daughter," my face immediately falls because I still have my speculations, "I don't need some test to know she's yours. I see it everyday in those eyes and her smile. I would never keep you away from her."

"Thank you," I whisper as my emotions quickly bubble right back up to the surface.

"Good night, Regina. We will see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Emma."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

I might as well have swallowed a pile of rocks from the added weight pressing into my gut this morning. I couldn't sleep last night. I couldn't eat this morning, not even a cup of coffee or a sip of water. A foul bitter taste is constantly tickling the back of my throat and filling my mouth with too much salvia which is leaving me nauseous all morning.

My heels click viciously against the cheap tile below, in sync with my erratic heart thumping in my chest and what feels like my ears. I needed my heels this morning to create the illusion of power, authority and calmness even though I'm a hot mess inside.

"Regina," Emma sighs in relief as she hears my stilettos rounding the corner.

My eyes immediately trail down to the car seat beside her feet. I can't see Hope from this angle, just the bulky car seat with the canopy up to shield her from our surroundings.

"Emma," I politely greet her, even though my tongue is swelling in my mouth and I'm practically choking on thin air.

"Perfect timing, Whale's ready for us," she informs me as she bends down and swoops her arm through the carrier, lifting Hope right off the ground.

Not a sound is made so I suspect there is a sleeping little girl curled up in the car seat as I follow Emma down the hall. A new wave of anxiety crashes into my body like a semi barreling down an interstate with no intentions to stop for the car in front of it. I swallow back the acid slithering up my throat and fight every instinct that's clawing beneath my skin to lash out irrationally.

There's nobody to actually blame for this unfortunate circumstance and there's really nothing I could actually do, but maybe release some fireballs to ease the tension. I just have to be patient and follow the doctor's instructions and try not to show my insecurities.

Whale is at the other end of the hall, holding a door open for us to enter and luckily his face is impassive. We step inside and Emma immediately places Hope's car seat onto an exam table. My eyes are instantly drawn to the baby fast asleep in the carrier.

Hope's soft little hairs are swept to one side of her olive toned face. Her little nostrils are flaring as she breathes through some dream that has her long dark lashes fluttering in her sleep. She's gently sucking on her butterfly pacifier that's pressing into her chubby cheeks.

My heart pounds so hard I fear it might burst just watching this precious little girl sleep so soundly. It's near the end of August now and still quiet warm, so Emma has her dressed in an adorable light green tank top that's actually a onesie with little ruffles upon her shoulders. Hope still appears to be warm by her flushed cheeks so maybe that's why Emma opted out of shorts to complete her outfit.

"Regina?"

"Hmmm?" I blink away my wandering thoughts to find Whale and Emma studying me intently, expectedly waiting for something that I missed out on.

"Would you like to start?" Whale questions with one skeptical eyebrow crawling up his high forehead.

"Of course," I clear my throat and step forward as he begins unwrapping two long sticks with cotton swabs at the end.

"Open wide," he smirks and I cannot control the involuntary eye roll that springs to life. "I always wanted to say that to you."

"I may be the Queen of these realms, but I am not above tossing a fireball at your face."

"Would you like to be thrown across this room yet again?" Emma deadpans, glaring at the scummy doctor before us, folding her arms in the most intimidating way.

"Oh come on, the Evil Queen and Savior come in here for a paternity test and I'm not allowed to make one joke?" He scoffs while moving along with the procedure and scraping the cotton ends against the inside of my cheek.

"You would think that would be enough grounds to render your stupid mouth shut," Emma rebuttals, never once unfolding her arms as she watches Whale work suspiciously.

"Nothing ever does," he smugly replies as he places my sticks into a tube and secures it with a click of a cap. "Now, the baby? Do you want to try this with her asleep?" He sincerely asks, completely throwing Emma and I off by his genuine kindness toward a child.

"Yes, if we can," Emma visibly relaxes as she turns to gaze upon her daughter.

On pure instinct, I hold my breath as Emma reaches for the pacifier and slowly pulls it from Hope's mouth. Those thin little lips stretch forward, blindly following the purple butterfly as it flies away from her mouth. Whale takes this as his opportunity to slide the stick into her mouth and swab her cheek. Hope tries to suck on the stick, but she notices right away that something isn't as soothing as it was before.

Sleepy brown eyes slowly pry open just as Whale is sliding the cotton out of her mouth. An adorable and yet heart breaking pout appears, as her bottom lip puckers out, but Emma is quick to offer the pacifier before her daughter starts crying.

My fingers move to their own according, delicately running across her forehead for comfort, persuading her heavy lids to droop closed again. I smile at this beautiful baby and gently pull away, not to disturb her any further.

"Alright, I'll put a rush on this because...well...it's you two," Whale rudely comments as he places Hope's DNA into a separate tube.

"How long do you think it will be?" I quickly blurt out, still terrified to find out the results.

"I should have them by tomorrow," he carelessly responds and heads for the door without another word.

Once the door firmly closes behind the trying man, Emma turns to Hope and smiles down at her baby with her entire face. "I just want to squeeze her when she's sleeping so peacefully," she whispers and I'm not quite sure if those words were meant for my ears, but I smile back at her and nod despite myself.

"She must be very tired if she hardly woke up during that," I comment, not really sure where Emma and I go from here.

"It's her nap time. She usually wakes up at seven every day and then she's ready for her nap around eleven," she mindlessly replies, lifting the car seat back onto her forearm and heading for the door.

"I see."

My heels anxiously click behind her to follow her out, my hands scrambling to help her open the door so she can walk through without awkwardly bumping the car seat into the door frame. She mumbles a thank you and I nod curtly before we walk down the hall in complete silence.

We exit the hospital, not a word spoken between us and I find myself wishing Hope would wake up screaming just to fill the uncomfortable void. Emma peeks through her thick lashes and offers a small smile as we walk side by side through the parking lot. Silence infects us like a life threatening disease until she places Hope's car seat into the base.

Emma quickly spins back around, lingering in the open door, swaying nervously from one foot to the other. "I spoke with Blue."

"Oh, what did she say?"

"She said we could stop by now, if you still want."

"Oh of course. Yes, we can go there now."

"Do you want to just ride with me over there?" She tentatively offers, sliding out from the door and softly closing it shut.

"Sure," I quickly reply because truthfully I don't want to leave either of them, even though I vowed to keep my distance until I know the final results.

Emma nods and quickly moves around her car, tumbling into the driver's seat while I climb into the passenger side. I haven't been inside this death trap since we drove back from the airport and ended our trip to California.

As soon as she starts the car she visibly relaxes, immediately becoming one with the car just as she always does. Suddenly, it's painfully obvious that the last time I was in this car, we were planning on being together. She sat right there in that seat and vowed that everything would work out between us and her family, to help soothe my trepidation about our future. The air becomes insufferably thick forcing my hand to automatically roll down the window for some much needed air.

Emma's fingers wiggle toward the radio and I notice right away how she doesn't hesitate this time to turn it on, but I remember her clearly contemplating the action when we first left for our trip.

"You turned on the radio," I obviously point out and roll my eyes at myself for the stupidity.

Luckily Emma chuckles beside me and nods as she shifts into reverse. "Yeah, so is that what we are going to do now?" I blink, my head rapidly snapping in her direction, creating an even bigger smile across her face. "State the obvious because we aren't sure what the hell to say anymore?"

I smirk and slowly draw my eyes toward the road ahead. "When we left for California, I remember your fingers itching to turn up the radio, but you never did."

She breathes a laugh out through her nose and shifts her car aggressively. "Yeah, well...Killian hated when I would blast the radio, he hated my music so I guess I just stopped whenever he was in the car. At least you didn't mind because you were used to living in Storybrooke for thirty years."

"Well he's an imbecile sometimes. How many years did it take him to even step foot in this car?"

"He drove in it once when he brought Henry and I back from New York."

"And after that?" I smugly insinuate.

"I don't know? Maybe three years?" She shrugs with a small chuckle.

"Even I managed to drive in this seat quite a few times despite the fact that I assumed it was just a metal coffin on wheels."

"Yeah, it was weird the first time I saw him sitting there. That's always been your seat, right beside me, where you belong," she smiles fully proud of herself and happily nods as she focuses back on the road.

My lips pucker from the endearing admission and I become lost in her beauty, just staring at the side of her face as she peacefully drives through Storybrooke. And she's right, it's always been her and I, side by side, through everything life has thrown our way.

The rest of the drive to Blue's is in a comfortable silence, with Emma's nineties music softly filling the car, cautious not to wake the sleeping beauty in the back. Our windows are both cracked, allowing the warm summer air to gently breeze through and for the first time in a long time, I'm content with Emma by my side.

The bug slowly rolls to a complete stop in front of the convent, Emma shifting into park and killing the engine with a deep sigh. "You ready?"

"Absolutely not."

"Agree," Emma mutters as she pops open her creaking door and rushes out.

I sigh, summoning all the courage I will need to make it through this upcoming conversation and exit the car as well. Emma reaches into the backseat and slings a diaper bag over her shoulder before unclipping Hope's car seat from the base. She exhales roughly as she slams the door shut with her hip and glances back at me.

"Can I take the diaper bag?" I timidly offer, still unsure of my place with this mother and daughter duo.

"Sure," she shrugs, like maybe she doesn't want to accept help, but then again she doesn't want to reject me in anyway when it comes to Hope. "She should be waking up soon and I know she'll need to eat."

"Of course," I reply, pulling the bag from her shoulder and hitching it onto mine. She smiles shyly at me before she shakes her head, physically trying to rid her mind from thinking too far into my action and proceeds to lead the way. "What time does she usually wake up from her nap?" I carefully question.

"Between one and two, kinda depends on how busy our morning was," she smiles that cheeky smile as I open the door and wait for her to enter.

The moment the door closes behind me, Blue appears right before us. "Emma, Regina, nice to see you," she smiles politically, never revealing her true colors.

"Hey Blue, thanks for seeing us," Emma breathes in relief as Blue's judging eyes drift over toward me in which I nod politely.

"Not a problem, this way," she instructs, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she leads us toward her office in the convent.

My heart cannot withstand much more of this abuse as it's hammering painfully against my chest. I've been a nervous wreck since accepting my crown with Emma always around and now finding out the possibility of Hope being my daughter...I'm physically ill. I just want all of this to be over with.

"You took the DNA test this morning, correct?" Blue starts off the conversation, gesturing for us to sit down across from her desk.

Emma settles Hope down between our chairs, near our feet while I place the bag down to the left of my chair. We quickly sit down as Blue sits in her own chair and Emma nods her response about the test.

"Blue, have you heard of anything like this before in our realm?" I inquire, my mayoral mask firmly set into place because I never did care for this fairy. This is one instance where I truly miss Rumple and wish he were here to help explain this insane mess.

"Well, yes. It's very possible for two women to conceive so long as they possess magic and share true love," she confidently educates us, folding her hands neatly upon the desk in front of her and straightening her posture.

"But we were in a land without magic," Emma counters, "but I know I felt Regina's magic and she felt mine," she admits, never once glancing in my direction for approval because we had discussed the magic exchange right after, we just haven't spoke of it since.

"It's not like your magic hasn't sparked before when we were in New York. Whenever you are running high on adrenaline and emotions your magic somehow works its way to the surface," I acknowledge, remembering a very vivid memory when Emma was arguing with Lily and her magic shattered her bug's headlight.

"Emma, you are very powerful, more powerful than you truly believe," Blue vaguely replies while I keep a close eye on the woman so I can pick up on her facial expression, but as always she remains impassive.

"Even if her magic was present that night-"

"Which it was," Emma rapidly interrupts, glaring at the side of my head.

"Fine," I coldly agree, focusing back on the fairy, "although her magic was present, that doesn't negate the fact that I drank a potion to ensure that I never reproduce again."

The faintest of smirks flashes across Blue's face, but as quickly as it appears, it vanishes before my very eyes. She clears her throat and inches just a tad closer over her desk.

"Yes, well I'm sure you drank a potion to guarantee that you never carry a child and that your womb remains barren, but you weren't the one to carry Hope, were you?" She suggestively insinuates, with that smug smirk again.

"Excuse me?"

"True Love is the most powerful magic, correct?" She patronizes us as though we are small children, raising one eyebrow and waiting for us both to nod along. "Well then, wouldn't you assume that if Emma was your true love then maybe she broke that curse you inflicted upon yourself and allowed you to reproduce with one exception, her body is the one to carry the child?"

"Wait, so you're saying that the potion Regina drank made her barren so she couldn't carry a child, but our magic combined allowed some sort of loop hole? So, she could reproduce except I would be the one to carry the baby? Am I getting this right?" Emma skeptically questions while I sit beside her utterly dumbfounded by Blue's explanation.

"If Regina's DNA matches Hope's, then yes, that's what I am saying. Which I don't see why you need for that silly test, she looks exactly like you, _Your_ _Majesty_."

My eyes flutter rapidly in confusion as I meet Blue's gaze. She grins that awful political grin, but for a split second the fairy relaxes and her smile morphs into a sincere one. Instantly, my eyes flick down again to assess the baby sleeping happily at my feet.

"That's what I said," Emma agrees as well, but my focus is on this precious baby.

I still see Emma's chin, her dainty pale thin lips, her adorable corky grin when she smiles and Emma's nose. As my eyes wander a little further up, I do notice Hope's eyes resemble mine, and not just in the color, but the shape as well. Her skin tone matches mine, nothing like Emma's pale complexion, along with her dark hair that's almost identical to mine. Hope is absolutely stunning and for the first time ever, I'm seeing her in a new light that radiates the perfect combination of Emma and myself.

"So, Emma is really my one true love?" I suspiciously inquire, never once taking my eyes off my beautiful daughter.

"Yes," Blue states without a moment of hesitation and dripping with conviction, forcing my eyes to snap back at her.

"Why do you sound so confident? Did you know this all along?" I sneer, because it would be just like this fairy to keep something so important a secret.

"No, I am not one to foresee the future, but I did have an interesting conversation one time with Rumple," she replies leaving Emma and I both hanging on the edge of our seats for more information.

"And?" Emma suddenly blurts out before I have the chance.

"He just said in his very cryptic lingo, that Regina was forced to become a villain and Emma was born strictly to be the Savior, destined in life to always find each other. I found it odd that he didn't use the phrase, _battle each other_ or something along those lines, but I had my suspicions that maybe he knew something more about your fate than any of us could have ever guessed."

"Rumple," I growl under my breath because it would be just like him to know something so important and use that information as leverage if the time ever presented itself, too bad he's long gone now and I will never know.

My mind shuffles through countless memories of the sneaky man and the first memory that flashes like a bright light is when he made me choose between Robin Hood and Emma. He specifically asked, 'So you're choosing the Savior over your beloved Robin Hood?' He must have known how much Emma meant to me to force me in such a predicament. Immediately his impish voice comes crawling back into my mind and all I can hear him rambling on about is that, 'every Savior needs a villain,' and he knew that would be the key to waking Emma up from her wish memories.

"That bastard," I mumble under my breath, stealing Emma's focus away from Blue. "He knew, he knew the whole time."

"Doesn't surprise me the least bit," Emma nonchalantly replies before turning back to the fairy. "So...here's a question..." her uneasy tone drags my mind back to the now and washes away any leftover thoughts of The Dark One. "Uh, so if Regina is my true love...is there a possibility of this occurring again?" She nervously questions, my eyes blowing wide from her inappropriate and very presumptuous accusation.

My eyes flick toward Blue, whose cheeks are burning crimson, while her fingers fiddle anxiously. Her eyes cast down to focus on her wiggling digits as she tries to answer the question honestly.

"Well, it is very rare, but you and Regina are both very powerful, so there is a chance that it could happen again..." she trails off as the blush spreads to her ears.

"But I'll be the only one to carry again, right?"

"Emma!" I blurt out to stop anymore words from tumbling out of that mouth of hers.

"What? It's a very valid question and I have the right to know," she defends, her face forming into a scowl.

"Who the hell said I would ever sleep with you again?" I rebuttal, trying desperately to ignore the fairy squirming in her seat behind the desk.

"Uh, she just said we are true loves," she deadpans like that is all the reason in the world to award her ownership over my vagina.

"I'm not having this conversation here with you," I coldly demand, jumping up from my seat like the damn thing was just lit on fire.

"Fine," Emma barks out, leaping right off her chair as well and bending down to scoop up Hope's car seat. My heels angrily snap against the floor, but then Emma's voice is stilling my feet. "Wait, I didn't get my answer."

"Emma!" I growl in a low threatening tone and stomp right out of the convent with Emma straggling behind me.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

After our meeting with Blue, neither one of us said a word on the drive home. I know I was still trying to process everything from Emma being my true love to us creating a baby from our magic. It was all too overwhelming and it produced a funk in the air that was suffocating us like some Lost Boy tossed a stink bomb into the car.

When Emma dropped me off at my car, she opened her mouth like she wanted to discuss everything, but I beat her to the punch. I told her it was best if we waited until the next day, after the paternity results came in before we spoke about anything more. I explained that it was best if we just took the rest of the day and night to process and really think about what our futures hold before we make any rash decisions.

Just as I was about to leave for work the next morning, my phone started buzzing, informing me that Dr. Whale was calling.

My heart sinks down to the pit of my stomach where it's tossed recklessly around from wave after wave of nausea wracking through my body. I swallow the large mass swelling in the back of my throat and answer the call with a shaky hand.

"Hello?"

"Regina."

"Yes."

"It's Whale, I just received the test results." My mouth pops open to respond, but no words are tumbling out, I'm frozen in place. So, I try my best to hum some sort of sound to encourage him to continue. "Hope's DNA, is 99.99% a match to yours. No denying that little one anymore."

_I have a daughter._

"That was never my intention," I coldly remark, finally finding my voice at such a cruel accusation against myself and that innocent baby.

"Well, who knew. I've seen some crazy things in my day, but two woman conceiving," he chuckles pervertedly into the phone, provoking my skin to crawl in disgust.

"Are we done here?" I rudely question as my patience wears thin.

"All done. I did call Emma beforehand since it is her child as well. I just got off the phone with her."

"I see." Dread weighs upon my shoulders at just the thought of starting a conversation with Emma regarding another child of ours. We were both never good at sharing Henry in the beginning. "Well, thank you for putting a rush on the results."

"Sure thing. Goodbye, Regina."

"Goodbye Whale," I quickly hang up and stumble to sit on my foyer steps before I collapse right here on the floor.

_I have a daughter._

Too many emotions inflict me all at once. I stumble from being ecstatic to feeling that awful sensation of heart breaking disappointment knowing that I missed out on so much of her life already. An urgency squeezes at my heart and I know I just want her home in my arms, but that alone just opens another ripple of emotions regarding Emma that I have no idea what to do with.

I could easily jump into a relationship with her knowing that she is my true love, but it's so hard to accept that a relationship with Emma means not only hard work, but a chance at heartache all over again. I just don't think my heart will survive another torment like last time.

_I have a daughter._

My phone is quickly buzzing before I am allowed any further time to drown in my sorrows and of course it is the Savior, swooping in on her save the day magic carpet.

"Hello," I flatly reply, completely unsure how I address this woman now.

"Hey...how are you?" She timidly questions and the insecurity in her voice makes me long for the days where she was a wild card and would easily step in my personal space to argue for the thrill of it.

I swallow as my eyes slowly drift closed. "I-I'm alright." The other end of my line is awfully quiet and I hate how uncertain we both are now.

"Look, I...I know how you must be feeling right now, but I just want to reassure you that Hope will never know the difference. She will never know or remember a life without you and I know that doesn't make up for the time you missed, but you have her whole life ahead of you. There are still so many firsts and memories that are to come."

"I know," I softly whisper as I choke back my tears and plead with myself not to break down over this phone call. "I-is..." I clear my watery throat and try to speak again. "Can I see her?"

"Absolutely," Emma agrees with conviction as I hear a few papers shuffling around in the background. "She's with Killian right now. My dad's working today and my mom is setting up her classroom for the new year. But you're more than welcome, I'll call him right now and let him-"

"No, no. That's alright. I um-"

"No, Regina don't be silly. You're her mother. Killian will be happy to know you are coming to spend time with her."

"I should probably go into the office today," I lie and despise how unconfident I sound.

"Regina, stop," she sighs, tossing down her paperwork. "Why don't you go pick her up and bring her back to your house? I will come by after work and we can sit down and discuss everything."

"Why don't you just come by after work with her? What time do you get off? I'm going to go in the office, but I can meet you back here," I quickly recommend, because for some reason I cannot find the courage to visit Hope with Hook around.

Her deep annoyed sigh rattles and cracks through the line, squeezing my heart even more. "Five," she shortly replies and I can just picture her rolling her eyes back at me.

"Alright, I'll see you then."

"Mmkay," she grumbles, hanging up before I even have a chance to say goodbye.

I don't know if I just don't want to see Hook with Hope because I know he was there for her since the beginning and I feel guilty or slightly jealous? Or maybe I feel ashamed that Emma and Hook both tried to warn me, but I was so focused on protecting my heart that I refused to listen to reason? Either way, I need a distraction and I can wait until Emma is off work so I can sort through everything I would like to say this evening.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Miss Mills," my secretary's voice scratches through over the intercom as I diligently work on the budget, not at all dwelling on my future conversation with Emma this evening.

"Yes."

"Killian Jones is here to see you, I told him you weren't seeing anybody today, but he refuses to leave," she annoyingly informs me as my entire body goes rigid.

"Send him in," I curtly reply while a burning rush washes through my body like a thousand needles poking at my sensitive flesh.

I swallow thickly, my tongue somehow feeling far too big for my mouth, wondering if he has my daughter with him. He should have her, Emma explicitly told me he was watching her today.

My office door swings open, forcing my body to leap from my seat behind my desk. There's a distinct sound of a baby rattle shaking aggressively and my body relaxes instantly, knowing my daughter is with him.

"Regina," he greets me as he closes the door behind him, with Hope propped up upon his hip.

"Hook. What are you doing here?" I interrogate, strictly on reflex and wince when I realize how cruel I have just sounded.

"Lovely to see you, too," he coyly replies, hiking the diaper bag further up his shoulder.

"How did you get here?" I curiously ask, knowing damn well this man doesn't drive.

"We walked, her stroller is outside the office. Look, Emma called and said you wanted to see Hope, but for some reason refused once you knew I had her."

"I didn't want to intrude."

"Bloody hell, she's your daughter," he scoffs, leaning Hope across my desk. "Take her."

"I-okay," I stammer like a fool as my trembling fingers reach for my baby girl and even though I have held her before, it's like I'm holding her for the first time again, because now I know, she's mine.

Motherly instincts bench all my irrational fears and take control. I press a small kiss to her forehead and rest her snuggly upon my hip.

"We all know you should be spending time together. I'm apart of her life, but I'm not her parent. Don't ever feel like you don't have a say so," Hook kindly says as he drops her diaper bag onto my desk. "I just texted Emma that I'm here so she knows Hope is with you."

"Wait, you're leaving?" I blurt out, startling myself at the uncertainty in my voice.

"I was going to. Do you really have work to do? I mean I can take her back to my house if you really are busy, but I assumed you just didn't want to come to my place to pick her up. I thought you might feel for more comfortable if I dropped her off."

"I-," I'm absolutely dumbfounded on what to say to this man. He is most certainly not the ill tempered man I constantly fought with so many years ago. "Why are you being so nice?"

Hook sighs, running his hand anxiously through his hair as he stares blankly at my desk and decides what he wants to say next.

"Look, I know we never really got along. I-I guess I was just jealous of the relationship you held with Emma and now I think back and I'm sure you felt the same way. Emma and I have come along way. It took awhile and it was hard to move passed everything, but we did for her." He nods toward the cheerful baby, rattling her toy excitedly and he smiles lovingly at her. "Emma and I went to Archie for counseling and he really helped us. Listen, I have known from the beginning that I would always be Uncle Hook, never her father, but I rather have that title than no place in her life at all. That right there was enough to help me move on."

I swallow, trying to lubricate my dry mouth before I speak. I glance back at how happy Hope is and smile on the spot. Her happiness is all that matters in the end and I cannot deny how well he has taken care of my baby when I couldn't.

"Thank you...for everything that you've done for Hope and Emma. I'm so sorry I wasn't-"

"Nobody knew," he awkwardly chuckles to himself and shakes his head, "well maybe Emma had a clue, but back then we were all kind of blinded by emotions and it seemed logical that I was her parent. Don't beat yourself up, it's not worth it when you can spend your time loving that precious baby," he smiles so sincerely that I actually soften and smile back at him.

"Thank you," I whisper, because I know thick tears are just lurking around the corner.

"It's pretty impressive what you two did and I know Hope's going to live up to her fullest potential," he snickers, "good luck with that," he teases with a wink, knowing damn well this little girl will give Emma and I a run for our money.

"Thanks," I retort, rolling my eyes at the man, but we both know it's all playful and there's no more reason for bad blood between us after what we both went through.

"So, we good?" He skeptically questions, raising one eyebrow up.

"Of course," I nod politely and even smile just to assure him that we are starting fresh from here and out. We both aren't the type to make amends so a subtle head nod and smile are more than enough to convey our true intentions.

"Alright, I'm going to meet up with Tink, her shift is almost through," he leans over the desk and tickles Hope's tummy. "And I'll see you later, little bugger." She giggles in return and bounces happily in my arms as he pulls away.

"When did she eat last?" I quickly blurt out before he exits my office.

"After her nap, around two." He glances at the clock on my wall and then back at me. "She has another two hours."

"Right. Thanks again," I softly say just so he understands how much I appreciate him filling in when I wasn't around.

"Not a problem," he smiles back at Hope before he slips out my door.

I inhale sharply and slide back down into my chair. I settle Hope on the edge of my desk with my hands firmly holding her into place and really examine her delicate features.

"You really do look exactly like Emma and I, huh, little girl?" I playfully admit with a heavy heart.

Hope giggles and slams her rattle against my desk with an ear piercing shriek. Carefully, I peal the rattle from her hands and set it down behind her. "Gentle, Hope," I softly explain.

I lean forward and place a tender kiss to her forehead as I soak up this moment. The first true engagement between my daughter and I, since finding out that she's in fact mine. My heart aches and guilt is filling up every inch of my body, but I know I should just be thankful that she is mine and I am hers and that she'll never know that I missed out on these last five months.

My beautiful baby stretches forward, her chubby fingers grabbing for my face, so I pretend to playfully bite her hands, only making her giggle even more. I rest my forehead against hers and breathe in her calming baby scent and melt into her embrace.

"I do love you, Hope, more than I could ever express. I have wanted you long before your mother and I even thought of being together. I never thought I could ever have a piece of me, when I drank that stupid potion," my eyes immediately swell with warm tears, so I close my eyes and absorb this moment. "I mourned the loss for you and now...now you're here." I choke on my words as a few tears tumble down my flushed cheeks. "I never thought I would ever see this day. I always wanted a baby girl and I swear I will do right by you. I promise to love you every day and be the best mom that I can be," I vow.

Hope nuzzles her forehead against mine, inspiring a smile to appear on my face and despite the heavy tears clinging to my eyes, we both just bask in the moment that's meant for just us.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Luckily, I still had Hope's car seat from when Snow asked me to watch her when Neal was sick. I buckled Hope in tight and drove home, where I could spend the next two hours with my baby before Emma comes over to take her back home for the night.

"Okay baby girl, we're home," I mumble as I kick the door closed behind me and toss my keys onto the side table.

Hope is the least bit interested in what I have to say because my sparkling silver necklace is fascinating her mind right now. I cradle the back of her head and kiss her forehead before walking swiftly into the living room. I magic a soft blanket on the floor and bend down to place Hope on it so she can play, but she tightens her legs around my waist, refusing to leave my arms.

I smile at my baby and decide to sit down on the blanket myself. I rest my back against my couch and pull my knees up to keep Hope balanced in my lap. My fingers move to their own accord, sweeping her dark tresses to the side and smiling brightly as she continues to play with my necklace.

"I know you already have a mommy, actually I'm not even sure what Emma calls herself around you, mommy? Momma? Mom?" Hope resumes yanking on my chain lightly, uninterested in what I have to say.

"Anyways, I know you don't know me, but I'm your mother too. I can be, momma, if Emma didn't claim that name yet," I softly whisper in the space between us and watch as big brown eyes blink up to meet mine.

"Hi baby girl," I softly coo and admire the way her lips curl into a giddy grin that is the spitting image of Emma. "You're so stinking cute, I could eat you up," I gush, cupping her pudgy cheeks and kissing the tip of her nose.

"I wonder if you even have a middle name?" I ramble on, allowing my necklace to steal my daughter's attention again.

"I'm going to kill your mother if she named you after Snow," I playfully tease. "I'm sure she did, but that's okay, I love that woman. Just don't ever tell her that, okay? That's our first secret together."

Hope babbles as she tugs harder on my chain, attempting to gobble up the necklace. "No, no, Hope," I gently say, removing the chain from her tight grasp.

I lean over toward her diaper bag and rustle through the items until I find some of her chew toys. "How about this one?" I offer a tan monkey with little rubber hands and feet to help soothe her itchy gums.

She bounces animatedly and quickly reaches for her toy. She hastily shoves the rubber piece into her mouth and babbles happily around it. I smile back at her and just take a second to revel in this moment with my daughter. _My daughter_.

"Does mommy sing to you?" Hope's baby garble continues, but her big brown eyes are focused on my face this time. "Do you like Wheels on the Bus?" Hope squirms and bounces more in my lap while I hold her little sides in place. "How about Itsy Bitsy Spider?" Hope removes the monkey from her mouth and shakes him violently before tossing him to the floor.

"I hate that I don't know anything about you, but I promise that's all going to change," I promise, stealing another kiss from her forehead.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Hey," Emma timidly greets me as she steps across my threshold. "Hi, Hope," she ecstatically acknowledges our daughter, her entire face lighting up with Hope's mirroring the same expression. Emma holds out her hands and our daughter leaps from my embrace into her other mother's. "Hi my sweet girl," she gushes, peppering her cheek with forceful kisses that produce the sweetest baby giggles.

I softly close the door behind them and curse myself for feeling so spiteful that Emma's going to take my daughter away this evening. I don't blame her, I don't, because Hope is accustomed to her home at Emma's house. That's the only place she knows and it wouldn't be right to force her to sleep in this strange house with me, who is practically a stranger as well. I just hate this situation. I thought if Emma and I ever shared a baby again, we would all be under one roof.

"I'm just finishing up making dinner, it's a chopped chicken salad, but I figured you would be hungry after work," I nonchalantly inform her as I saunter back into the kitchen.

Emma rests Hope upon her hip and follows my lead through the house. "Thank you. I would love some. I'm starving. We were so busy today with paperwork that I didn't really have time to eat lunch."

"I was just about to give her a bottle as well."

"I can feed her while you finish up with dinner."

"Sure."

I'm struggling to catch my breath, such undeniable nerves about what is about to transpire between us. It's all so amicable right now because we are both being polite and nice to avoid a fight, but I know this won't last long. I can only assume she wants to tear my head off for not listening to her from the beginning and ultimately abandoning her.

My posture is as straight as a pole as I shuffle toward my kitchen island and continue chopping the ingredients to my salad, not at all thinking about the time Emma was suffering from morning sickness at this very island.

Emma swiftly snatches up the bottle and makes herself comfortable in the same chair she always claims when she's in my kitchen. She props one leg up against the counter and easily adjusts Hope before slipping the bottle between her lips.

"How did you warm up the breast milk?" She suddenly asks, taking me by surprise because she didn't ask the last time I watched Hope.

"I placed your packet in a bowl of hot water."

"Oh good. I wasn't sure since I assume Henry was strictly formula."

"He was," I cordially respond and focus on the steady rhythm of my blade connecting with the wooden board below.

The adorable sucking noises coming from Hope's baby lips fill the air and somehow loosen the tension just the slightest between Emma and I.

"How was she?"

"An angel," I breathe out with an involuntary smile sliding into place. "She was only here for two hours though," I sadly add on and hate how needy I'm already sounding, but I just found out she is mine and I don't want to let her go just yet.

"I offered for you to take her this morning," she sing songs not to disrupt our baby, but I can still hear the underlining layer of, _I told you so._

"I know," I exhale slowly and try to push my irritation away.

"Well why didn't you take her this morning?" She's still calm and I know it's only for Hope's sake.

"I-I don't know," I mutter under my breath and distract myself by arranging my ingredients into a bowl.

"Come on, Regina, you and I both know that's bull. Just tell me," she urges from behind me.

"I don't know..." I deflate, knowing my best option is to just be honest with her. "Maybe it was a combination of things."

"Like..." she prompts for me to continue.

I slowly turn around and lean against my counter, folding my arms securely over my chest. Hope is still drinking away, her hands clasped around her bottle to help her mother keep it upright and I smile instantly.

"Well, I really felt out of place picking up Hope from Hook after everything the three of us have been through. Not to mention, the shame and guilt facing him, knowing that he has been there since day one for Hope and I haven't been." Already the tears are swelling again.

"Regina, as much as it sucks that you weren't there, honestly, I just want to move passed it. I don't want to dwell on it because we have more important things to take care of now. Hope is here and I just think she should be our main concern."

"Yes, I understand Hope comes first now, but aren't you livid with how things turned out? Emma, I missed your entire pregnancy, her birth, her first smile, her first," I choke on my own horrifying words as the tears rapidly fill my eyes again, but Emma is already stepping in.

"I have every moment documented. I swear I have taken at least one picture a day for the last five months. I'm probably compensating for not having pictures of myself and for missing out on Henry's childhood, but I just want to make sure I don't miss a thing. My mother recorded her first bath in the hospital and so much more. I have it all waiting for you."

I quickly brush away the tears that are slowly cascading freely down my cheeks, wondering if this immense amount of guilt will ever drift away.

"How are you not so angry with me, I can hardly look at myself in the mirror," I whisper as my eyes soak up my daughter, finishing up her bottle.

Emma inhales sharply as she slowly pulls the bottle away from Hope's thin little lips. She sets the bottle down and I quickly snatch it up as a distraction, rinsing it out in the sink. Emma lifts Hope up and slowly pats her back as she contemplates how she would like to respond or lash out for all her pent up frustrations.

"Look Regina, I was furious when Whale told me how far along I was, because I knew my baby was apart of you and you were gone. Never to be seen or heard from again. I'm not going to lie, I struggled, I was livid, hormonal, frustrated and just a mess. But, I went to Archie and during my entire pregnancy I was in therapy and he helped, a lot. I just don't see the point in continuing to dwell on that anymore. It's over, it's done with and I need to focus on the future. Five months of her life without you is nothing compared to the next fifty plus years, right?"

"I suppose," I quietly respond, still full of shame and regret.

"Can we just try and move forward? I have a bunch of pictures for you and videos and obviously I'll tell you anything you want to know, but I would like to focus on our future."

"Okay, how about we sit down for dinner and we can discuss our plans for Hope," I suggest.

I quickly conjure the highchair I used last time for Hope and begin plating our salads while Emma straps our daughter inside. Emma places a few toys on Hope's tray while I set down our dinner and pour myself a glass of water and a Sprite for Emma. We finally sit down and reality pounds hard against my chest when I realize we are sitting down as a family.

Emma and I are both painfully silent and I can only assume she's panicking deep inside like I am. The tension is slowly thickening between us, creating a wall that neither one of us is sure how to move around. Hope thankfully giggles and helps ease the palpable tension as she bangs her rattle against the tray.

"Easy Hope," Emma softly, but still firmly instructs as she carefully stills our daughter's fierce arm.

Hope glares at her mother for a moment, internally debating if she wants to push her mother's buttons or obey. I smirk to myself knowing that with mine and Emma's qualities combined, this little girl is really going to be a handful.

"So," Emma begins around a forkful of mixed ingredients.

"As much as I would love to have Hope on the weekends, I do understand that wouldn't be right. She hardly knows me and I don't want to uproot her from her home," I start to explain, setting my fork down so Emma knows how sincere I am.

She nods along, rushing to chew and swallow her bite. "Right. I know she already adores you and feels comfortable around you, that much is obvious," she confirms, eyeing our daughter with a soft smile playing at her lips. "But I think we should have her become more accustomed to your house before sleepovers."

"I agree," and I do, wholeheartedly, but that doesn't relieve the ache beating down on my thumping heart.

"Since I've had Hope, you obviously know I've been working weekends and I have Monday's and Tuesday's off for sitter purposes. You have weekends off so I could drop her off Saturday and Sunday mornings on my way to work and then pick her up like an hour before her bedtime, if that works for you." She shrugs as she focuses on her dinner again.

"What about during the week?"

"Well, you work Monday through Friday and like I said I'm already off Monday's and Tuesday's."

"Well, what about on Wednesday's? Can I pick her up for a few hours after work? Until her bedtime?"

"Oh, umm," Emma swallows thickly as she buries herself with wiping her mouth. She slowly, very slowly sips her drink as she mulls over my request. "Yeah," she weakly agrees, "that could work."

"Why are you so uncomfortable?" I inquire, leaning further into the table, over my untouched meal.

"No, it's not that. I-I just...I've had Hope to myself for five months, I just need to get used to the idea of sharing her, that's all."

"Trust me, I understand, completely," I sympathize with conviction, because of course I remember how it felt when I had Henry all to myself for ten years and then out of nowhere I was forced to share him.

"I-I know," her eyes flick to mine for a split second as shame washes over her. "I'm sorry for that. I really am. I get it now, I really do."

"Emma, relax, we are so far passed that time in our lives. After a year or so, we figured things out with Henry and look how well our coparenting turned out."

"You're right, but I am sorry."

"Thank you for the sentiment."

We both nod, words failing us for the moment as we think about how the tables have turned in our lives. We focus on eating, wordlessly, just Hope's baby babbles filling the air.

"So," Emma finally cracks through the tension as we finish up our last bites. "Uh, can we talk about the whole true love thing?"

"I think we should just focus on figuring things out right now with Hope."

"I know, but I'm just curious, like where do you land on all of that?" She nervously questions, fiddling with the napkin in her lap.

"I think that it's...well...unexpected."

"Yeah," she murmurs, her eyes and fingers fascinated with that damn napkin. "Kinda crazy, huh?"

"Yes, I'm sure your mother is having a field day, her daughter was destined for her enemy," I flatly reply as Emma just snorts.

"It's an epic story, that's for sure." I just hum this time in response, not quite sure where this topic is headed and truthfully I rather avoid. I don't think my heart can take anymore heartbreak right now. "Do you think, maybe, we could work on us. Maybe some family dinners? Maybe even you and I can spend some time together?"

My eyes flutter closed as I slowly exhale because this is exactly what I wanted to ignore right now. We are getting along so well and now she wants to dig up old wounds that are just going to bleed out hopelessly once again.

"I just don't think that's a good idea."

"Seriously?"

"Yes," I breathlessly whisper as I move to clear our plates, hoping to end this conversation.

However, Emma is abruptly to her feet and stalking me toward my kitchen sink. My back tenses when I hear her clumpy boots angrily following behind.

"So, what you're never going to give us another try? After everything?" She bitterly accuses, but I don't bother peering over my shoulder because I know I'll find the hurt and rejection pulsating in those enticing eyes.

"Emma," I sigh heavily, placing the dishes in the sink, still avoiding her gaze at all costs. "I've waited so long for you and when I finally had the opportunity it fell apart-"

"But that wasn't my fault!" She hastily interjects.

"I know that now, but for the past ten years, I've been trying to piece myself back together and it's been the hardest task I've ever been faced with." My shoulders slump in defeat and I pause, pleading with those pesky tears to just stay away so I can get through this without expressing how much she still affects me. "My heart can't take anymore pain. I'm not ready to risk going through that torture again. I'm sorry, but my main priority right now is our daughter," I firmly state, even through I can distinctly hear the waver in my own voice.

"You're so selfish," she mutters under her breath as she steps away from my side.

"I'm selfish?" I laugh humorlessly, shaking my head at the audacity after everything I thought I was sacrificing for her and her baby.

"Yes, by avoiding a relationship you're just denying me my own happiness," she angrily replies, unbuckling Hope from her highchair and lifting her to rest upon her hip.

"Don't you dare accuse me of being selfish after I denied my own happiness for yours, multiple times," I remind her, pointedly narrowing my eyes at her.

"It's fine Regina, I'm done trying with you. I am so sick and tired of constantly chasing you when you just want to drown in your own loneliness. Every time I fight for you, for us, you reject me and push me further away," she coldly remarks, but in the calmest voice, conscience not to startle our daughter.

Emma storms off toward the living room, whirling around the room like a tornado, collecting Hope's belongings and shoving them into her bag with one hand.

"Well, congratulations Regina, you finally pushed me away," she sasses, slinging the diaper bag upon her shoulder.

"I'm not trying to push you away, I would like to have a civilized relationship so we can coparent properly for Hope," I strongly rebuttal, not wanting to end the night on a bad note which will only further damage our future encounters.

"Don't worry, I have no problem coparenting with you, I've done it once, I can do it again," she smugly replies, the insinuation that I am the culprit in all of this.

"Emma, will you please calm down a moment?" I urge as my frustrations slowly get the best of me.

"I really need to leave," she stresses as she carries Hope to the door with me following like a pitiful little puppy pleading with their own not to walk out that door and leave them behind. "I need to give Hope a bath and put her down for bed," she sternly declares, not once looking back in my direction.

When she reaches the door, I move to open it for her, but she is far too irritated and emotional to allow the gesture. She yanks open the door and my heart leaps up to my throat knowing what's to come.

"Wait, will you at least let me say goodbye?" I exasperate as Hope's big brown eyes wander over her mother's shoulder to meet mine.

Emma exhales slowly and leans Hope in my direction. "Of course," she softly replies as I quickly snatch up my daughter.

Immediately, I place Hope against my chest and rest my lips upon her head. I breathe in her calming baby scent and try my hardest to memorize this moment. My baby girl nuzzles closer into my chest and we both breathe out a small sigh that melts my heart instantly.

My eyes flick toward her other mother, discovering the conflicting torment etching into Emma's face. It's so clear how she's torn between scowling back at me and smiling at the beautiful scene between her daughter and her other mother.

I sigh, place one last kiss to my baby's head and gently hand her over to Emma again. "I'll, uh, get those photos ready for Wednesday," she mumbles as she settles Hope back onto her hip.

"Thank you, I'd greatly appreciate them."

"Mmhmm."

"Bye Hope," I softly coo and wave, hoping one day soon she might mimic the action.

"Goodnight, Regina."

"Goodnight, Emma," I gently reciprocate as I watch her carry our daughter away, only causing more inflicting damage to my heart.


	30. Chapter Thirty

"_All set to pick up Hope tonight_?"

My phone buzzes at exactly eight o'clock in the morning and I can assume that Emma already dropped off Hope and is entering the station right now. I carefully set down my coffee and pick up my device, my fingers anxiously typing away.

"_Yes, I started work a little early this morning so I can get off a little earlier so I have more time with her."_

I nervously set down my phone and of course I shouldn't feel this anxious buzz swimming through my veins. She's my daughter too and I have every right to pick her up early from Ashley's daycare, but then again, Emma has custody, the ball is in her court and she can so easily deny my request.

"_Alright, please make sure you text Ashley so she's aware. I'll be by at seven to pick her up_."

"_I will inform Ashley now. Thanks again._"

Of course she doesn't respond, because she's still bitter about our fight Sunday night. I take one deep calming breath and try my very best to bite my tongue. I toss my phone across my desk and continue through the ignorant emails from ridiculous citizens.

I understand that we are true loves and I fully comprehend that we will not fully be satisfied in any other relationship besides each other, but what she needs to grasp is that I'm just not ready to jump into a serious relationship after everything we've been through. Hope should be our main priority; trying to coparent in a healthy environment for her, helping her feel comfortable with the new change and adjusting her to a new bedroom at my house.

"Hey sis," Zelena cheerfully explodes as she waltzes through my door, completely taking me by surprise.

"Zelena," I gasp, taking a steady breath to calm my erratic heart. "What are you doing here?"

"I just dropped by to formally congratulate you, I heard through the grapevine the test results came in, you _are_ the father," she taunts with an all too malicious smirk tugging around her mouth.

"Shut up," I growl and drop my gaze to my keyboard as she drops her bottom into the seat across from me, irritation spreading through my veins like prickly needles.

"Is that not the appropriate term?" She comments, playing terribly at dumb.

"Knock it off. Hope has two mothers."

"I would have assumed you were the more feminine, between you and the sheriff, but apparently I am human too and just this once I guess I can admit defeat and proudly state when I am wrong," she condescendingly continues with her irrelevant rambling.

"The day Emma Swan is known for being more feminine than me, is the day I die. Plain and simple," I firmly state, scrolling through my long list of emails filled with stupidity.

"Then please, do explain how you managed to knock up the Savior and then abandon her."

I growl under my breath and grit my teeth, encouraging my magic to settle back down and not blast my annoying sister across the room.

"First of all, I did not abandon her. I thought Hope was Hook's. And if you must know, many, many, years ago, I drank a potion to ensure that I would never bear a child because I could not stand the thought of mother corrupting my child. Apparently, the combination of true love's magic found a loop hole in my curse, allowing me to create a child so long as another woman carries for me. Enter, Hope."

"Fascinating," Zelena breathes, gawking at me like I'm so peculiar magical item that just appeared out of thin air. "Well, I'm happy I have a niece. I cannot wait to spoil her rotten and hype her up on sugar just to send her back home to you."

"You're hilarious," I deadpan, complete with our Mills' eye roll.

"So, what does this mean for you and the sheriff?" Zelena intrusively interrogates, leaning forward to offer her undivided attention.

"It means that we will continue spending our lives coparenting, like we have been doing since Henry was ten," I flippantly reply, trying to sound as impassive as my voice will allow.

"Right, so you're telling me your soul is basically bound to the blonde and you don't ever want that ass in your bed again?"

"Zelena!"

"Oh come now, don't even pretend to be offended sis, that woman can really make jeans look damn good. Sure, that red leather jacket is an eye sore, but her ass in those-"

"I swear to god, I will end your miserable life right now-"

"Nonsense, you know I'm right," the pain in the ass waves her hand carelessly while those bright blue eyes roll dramatically. "I can appreciate a beautiful woman when I see one, and the Savior really excelled in that department, now for her brains," she purses her lips while her head bobs from left to right, wide eyed like some owl on uppers.

"Don't make me take your voice again, because you know I will," I threaten in my most cruel tone while Zelena glares at me with her most annoyed expression.

"Fine, in all seriousness, if you are suppose to be with her then why aren't you?" She calmly asks and this time she actually sounds genuine and almost concerned.

I sigh heavily, allowing all my anxiety about the situation to escape with my deep breath. My fingers slide away from my keyboard and for the first time I actually face my sister.

"Honestly, I'm not ready for the heartbreak that's sure to come. I'm not saying that I'll never try with her, but as of right now, I would just like us to focus on our daughter. Hope hardly knows me and I would like to bond with my daughter, that's my main concern."

"You're being a damn fool. You two obviously love each other enough to create a child out of it. Don't even get me started on how you two look at one another. You are never going to be satisfied with anyone else-"

"Zelena, please, don't you think I know all this? I'm tired of this entire topic already and I don't want to keep dwelling on it. I'm not asking again, please drop it. My daughter is my concern right now."

"Fine," she huffs, sinking back into her chair with a childish scowl consuming her wicked features. "So, how are you two sharing the little rug rat?"

I roll my eyes at my sister's name for my baby, but decide to just ignore it, I know she is going to love Hope very much. "Until Hope becomes accustomed to my home and feels safe with me, I will have her on the weekends. Emma will pick her up in the evenings around seven and then drop her off in the morning. I also will have her Wednesday evenings until seven again."

"And how long will it be until she can sleep at your house?" She suspiciously questions with one eyebrow raised incredulously.

"I'm not sure, when Hope's comfortable."

"When Hope's comfortable or when the Savior is?" She mocks in a tone I know all too well, she doesn't trust anything I am offering.

"Most likely both," I fully admit, snatching up a pen to twist between my fingers to keep my mind busy, because I hate that my baby can't live in my house. "I understand though, there was a time where I was in Emma's shoes and was reluctant to share Henry, so I know where she's coming from. It's hard to raise a child on your own and then have to share that love and responsibility."

"But ten years with Henry and five months with Hope are two different scenarios," she coldly replies, already falling into the role and acting as my older and protective sister.

"Yes, there's a big time difference, but it doesn't make the situation any easier," I defend, "it's hard no matter what." I sigh heavily and toss my pen onto my desk. "I'm sure in a few months Hope will be sleeping at my house," I confidently state, even though my stomach is turning, expressing that I don't even believe my own lies.

"If you say. Just remember that baby is just as much yours as hers, don't let the Savior think she can walk all over you," she firmly demands, her stubborn, yet protective behavior etched into her face.

"I won't, honestly she's been very amicable," I defend, because Emma has been very kind through all of this so far. "Now, go. I need to finish my work so I can pick up my daughter early."

XXXXXXXXX 

Nothing in this world matters. Every stress related to work or my damn relationship with Emma vanishes into thin air the moment Hope notices my presence and her entire face lights up. My baby girl bounces happily upon Ashley's hip as she stretches her little arms out for me and my heart melts like warm gooey chocolate. Those big brown eyes are sparkling with excitement while her smile keeps stretching further and further into her cheeks, showing off the most adorable dimple deep into her right cheek.

"Well hello baby girl," I coo, swiftly lifting her into my arms and placing a loving kiss to her forehead. "How are you today?"

"She's always good," Ashley happily concludes, waving her hand in the air to dismiss any worries. The former princess strolls across the room, collecting Hope's belongings and packing them into her diaper bag while I relish in the feel of my daughter in my arms again. "So, little problem..."

My eyes flick quickly to the flustered blonde who is frantically searching the play area.

"What's wrong?"

"I may have misplaced her favorite paci," she nervously chuckles, dropping to her hands and knees in search of said pacifier.

"Oh."

"I mean, she just woke up from her nap and ate so she doesn't necessarily _need_ it right now, but I'm sure she'll be looking for it this evening," she continues, lifting up a few blankets and stuffed toys, huffing and puffing her complaints under her breath.

"It's fine, I actually purchased the same one for my house. The purple one with the butterfly?"

"Yes," Ashley breathes out her relief, standing up from her hands and knees. "She will take other ones, but for some reason that's her favorite one."

"I suspected," I smile at my daughter and press another kiss to her forehead. "Not to worry, I have one at my house."

"Good, I'm sure it will turn up soon," she mindlessly comments, her eyes still sweeping around the area.

"Thank you," I smile kindly and hitch the bag over my shoulder.

"No problem, she's always so pleasant to have around," Ashley gushes as she walks me to the door.

"Oh, before I leave," I abruptly spin around as we reach the door, taking the blonde by surprise. "May I ask how much Emma pays you a week?"

"Oh, ummm..."

"It's just that, I haven't been around, obviously, and I would like to help in anyway possible. So, I was thinking I could pay for Hope's daycare this month." The expression of surprise on Ashley's face, actually startles me for a brief moment. "I-I know it won't make up for everything, but I hope it will at least be a step in the right direction."

"Oh, yeah...of course." Ashley smiles sweetly as her eyes flick toward Hope for a brief second. "I have her Wednesday through Friday from seven thirty to about six. Emma usually pays me three fifty a week," she nervously replies.

"Alright, does she pay you weekly?"

"Yes, she does."

"Okay, so may I pay for you this week and the rest of the month in advance? Just so Emma doesn't have a chance to decline my offer."

"Oh, um sure. Of course, I will let her know on Friday that it's all taken care of for this month."

"Perfect, will you hold Hope for a moment so I can write you a check?"

"Of course," Ashley happily accepts Hope into her arms and tickles just below her chin to generate those adorable giggles. "That's pretty awesome of you to do this for Emma. Not many people understand the expense of daycare and I know she will appreciate the gesture."

"Well, thank you," I quietly reply and quickly hand over the check. "And thanks again for taking such good care of our daughter."

"Of course, anytime," she sweetly answers, smiling from ear to ear. "Bye bye Hope."

I lift Hope's little hand and wave to help teach her the gesture. I thank the woman again before we exit and make our way to Granny's to pick up an extra caffeine boost for myself this afternoon.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Well hello little Hope," Ruby gushes, taking Hope's little hand into hers and smiling with all her pearly white teeth on display. "How are you, Regina?" She politely questions even though her attention is focused directly at my daughter causing me to smile.

"Fine, thank you," I say with conviction, but even still her skeptical eyes flick to mine and I swear she can see right through to my soul.

"I don't think you're just, _fine_. You just found out Hope is yours and that Emma is your true love."

"Please, Ruby, everyone has been pestering me constantly. Can we please just talk about anything else?"

"Sure," she smiles and redirects her attention back toward my daughter who is playing with the ends of my hair. "Can I take her for a minute?"

"Of course," I agree, leaning forward for Ruby to securely hold her against her chest.

The former waitress smiles with every muscle in her face as she babbles in some baby talk that has Hope eyeing her suspiciously. We both laugh at my daughter's confused expression with her dark brows furrowing as she studies Ruby's expressions.

"I think I need a little pup in my life," she divulges as she bops Hope's little button nose.

"Oh? Are you and Dorothy discussing having a baby?"

"Yeah, I mean I did wake her with true love's kiss so there's that, but we are happy to adopt or weigh our other options if it doesn't happen from our bond."

"I'm not quite sure how all that works to be honest. Truthfully, I'm still shocked that Emma and I created this wonderful miracle on the first try," I laugh lightly, hoping not to dwell on the subject any further as I run my fingers through Hope's silky tresses.

"Lucky," Ruby teases all in good fun as she rests her forehead against Hope's which encourages my daughter to roughly grab at her face.

"Gentle, Hope," I softly instruct. "So, what are you doing in Storybrooke? Visiting Granny?"

"Yup, the woman's getting up there and I missed out on so many years with her, I need to make up for lost time."

"Hey! I'm still alive and kickin!" Granny loudly defends as she offers my coffee to go.

"Thanks Granny."

"You're welcome. And how's this little bundle of energy?" The older woman cheerfully acknowledges, stealing Hope from Ruby's clutches, creating a frown around her granddaughter's mouth.

"She's wonderful. I just picked her up from Ashley's and now we are headed back to my house," I explain while Granny tickles Hope's sides producing my favorite sound in the world.

"Ah, Emma was just rushing in here no more than an hour ago for lunch. Said she was swamped at work," Granny enlightens me with this look set on her face like maybe this bit of information is of importance to me.

"I see," is all my brain can muster up to reply because I'm not quite sure where this information should lead. "Well, Emma can work late if need be, I have Hope until seven anyways," I decide to mention as I hold out my hands for my daughter.

Hope is already bouncing and wiggling to climb back into my arms which does wonders to my bruised heart.

"Well you two have a nice evening," Granny offers before she slips back behind the counter to proceed with her customers.

"Thank you, and Ruby, maybe speak with Blue on your baby subject. Maybe she will have some information that might be useful," I suggest, readjusting Hope on my hip and my coffee in my free hand.

"Yeah, maybe we will. Thanks," she says with a bit of hope and excitement sparkling in those bright glowing eyes of hers. She leans forward and places a gentle kiss on top of Hope's head. "Bye Hope, give your mothers hell!" She chuckles as she winks, strutting away to help her grandmother once again while Hope and I venture home.

XXXXXXXXX 

Of course when I found out that Hope was mine, I went out and bought everything that I would need for her. A brand new crib, clothes, a pack and play, bottles, pacifiers, just everything imaginable. I set everything up by myself, but when I started to decorate her bedroom I figured it would be best if it matched hers at Emma's house. So, I asked Emma to bring a picture of Hope's room so that way I can just use my magic to recreate the same room. I think that will help Hope feel more comfortable at my house, especially when she takes her naps on the weekends here.

I absolutely fell in love with every little girl's outfit available in the store and I may have gone overboard, but I just couldn't help myself. When Henry was an infant, I remember strolling passed the little girl's section and admiring how adorable everything was and now I am finally able to shop in that department, so I took advantage of the situation. I even purchased bigger sizes for Emma to take home with her for our daughter in a few months.

I just finished feeding and changing Hope and now I placed her on her play mat so we can play a little bit before I begin preparing dinner. She can almost sit up on her own, so I place her between my legs which portray as guard rails in case she topples over to one side.

"Okay princess," I say as I reach for a new toy that I purchased which flashes all sorts of colors, "what about this one. Red," I slowly name the color as I press down on the button that immediately blinks a bright red.

Hope bounces with excitement as she slams both hands down on the toy, effectively tearing it out of my clutches. "Gentle Hope," I remind her, reaching for the toy again. "How about blue?" I lightly press the blue button that flashes again, encouraging Hope to bang her hands roughly against all the colors, lighting up her face as if a rainbow was just painted across her delicate features.

She babbles on happily, slamming her palms down on each color, over and over again until she grows tired and decides something else is far more important. She tosses the toy out of her way and lunges forward, luckily, I catch her before she nose dives into the floor and I set her down on her tummy. Hope immediately lifts her upper body, straightening her elbows as she eyes the squishy blocks ahead of her.

I observe intently, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as she lifts her knees slowly. Carefully, she rocks back and forth, working up the momentum to crawl, yet also very skeptical if she wants to continue or not. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, buzzing through my blood as I study Hope's movements, anticipating what's to come. After everything, I would be absolutely ecstatic if I witnessed her first crawl after missing so much.

However, Hope whimpers, obviously discouraged and slumps her lower region back down. I quickly crawl in front of her and lay down on my stomach. I snatch up the nearest block and slam it against the floor, producing a high pitched squeaking sound. Hope's eyes instantly light up with pure joy.

"Come on Hope," I enthusiastically encourage her and bang the squeaky toy again. "I know you can do it, determination runs in your blood," I smile happily at my baby as she pulls her knees up again. "There you go, come on," I excitedly coo, squeaking the toy again.

Her thin dark brows pinch together in deep concentration, resembling Emma to a tee every time that damn woman is about to blast her magic. There's a hint of a proud smirk ghosting over her lips and for a moment I wonder if that's my smirk that Emma always teased me about when we were lost in the sheets.

Hope rocks forward again, attempting to crawl, but stumbles and ends up falling to her face. "Oh honey," I softly coo as I try to lift her up again and notice a very prominent Emma pout, but my mind is quickly distracted by a picture frame sliding down my wall and shattering against the floor. I jump, slightly startled as Hope belts out a heavy sob.

I quickly scoop her into my arms and rush toward my hallway to investigate the incident. I glance at the wall and guess that these nails should probably be changed after forty plus years. In a blink of an eye, I flick my wrist, cleaning up the mess, reassembling the picture frame and hanging it right back where it belongs.

"Ssshhh," I whisper against my baby's head and hold her close as I rock her startled cries away. "It's okay baby, it's all over."

I continue rocking her close to my chest as we stroll through the hallway into my kitchen. "You did so well, Hope. You almost crawled," I happily comment as her cries morph into tiny whimpers and she tries to catch her breath.

"You're going to be crawling before we know it, huh? I bet you're going to be an earlier walker too," I absentmindedly acknowledge as I slowly set her into the highchair and buckle her in.

I place a loving kiss to her forehead and proceed to work around the kitchen preparing dinner. Hope babbles and bounces in her chair and soon I know what's missing. I sweep across the floor toward my iPad and quickly scroll through my music for something to fill the air. Almost everything on here is from Roni, so I shrug, click on Stevie Nicks and continue on with dinner while Hope sings away.

XXXXXXXXX 

Soon after dinner, I feed Hope her bottle and change her into her cozy fitted pajamas. Her big brown eyes are already glossy, the little honey specs dimming out as her energy wanes. She rubs a chubby fist to her eye and pouts just like her other mother.

"Awe baby are you tired?" I softly question as my eyes flick toward the clock on the wall.

It's only six forty-five, but I did keep her busy all afternoon. Emma should be here any minute now and I assume she will take Hope home and almost instantly put her to bed. She usually is down by eight o'clock, but I just don't see her making it that far tonight.

I carefully lay down on my couch and place Hope on top of my chest. She babbles incoherently as she inspects every inch of my face. I gently pat her bottom as my other hand rubs soothingly up and down her back. I softly sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider, entrancing my daughter instantly as my fingers dance in front of her face.

"Down came the rain," my fingers lightly tickle down her face, causing her to squirm and giggle in response. "And washed the spider out," I continue with my hand gestures, just as there's a knock on my front door. "Mommy's here," I whisper and kiss the tip of Hope's nose.

"Come in," I shout as I flick my wrist and unlock the door.

Emma breezes right in without any hesitation, her heavy boots thumping against my floors as she strolls into my living room.

"You two look cozy," she comments and I swear there's a hint of bitterness in her tone, that tells me exactly how much she wishes to crawl in beside me. "Hi Hope," she softly coos as she bends down near the couch and kisses her temple.

Our daughter immediately wiggles for her other mother and Emma happily scoops her up into her arms as I sit back up.

"Shit," Emma mutters under her breath. "Hey, those photo albums, I left at home. I'm sorry, it was kinda a busy morning and day," she sighs and I can see the exhaustion swirling dark circles beneath her eyes so I force down my own disappointment.

"Not a problem, you can bring them Saturday," I conclude, rising from my sofa. "Did you bring photos of her room?"

"If it's on my phone, does it count?" She curiously questions, holding a sleepy Hope closer to her chest.

"Sure, just text me the pictures so I can change her room this evening so it's all ready for Saturday."

"Great," she sighs in relief as she picks up Hope's diaper bag and slings it over her shoulder. "Did she eat?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

"I don't think you're going to make it until your next feeding, huh?" She cutely questions our daughter as I follow them to the door.

"She's very tired this evening."

"Did you drug her?" Emma laughs as she studies the lazy grin hidden behind Hope's pacifier and the droopy look in her eyes.

"I just kept her very busy," I reply as we step into my foyer. "She actually almost crawled, I bet any day now we will be chasing this little one around," I happily state as I brush a few of Hope's wisps from her face.

"Wow, that'll be impressive," she laughs lightly and presses a kiss to her temple. "Okay, well say goodbye to...what do you want to be called? I usually say mommy when I refer to myself."

"Momma?" I meekly question, creating an adorable little smirk to grace Emma's beautiful face, but I quickly avert my eyes because I cannot fall for her charms once again. Not now.

"Hope, say bye bye to momma," she softly says as she delicately waves Hope's hand goodbye.

I lean forward and press a sweet kiss to her forehead and fight back every instinct that's pleading in my body for them to stay. I watch as they disappear into Emma's bug and drive away, taking my beating heart along with them.

I sigh heavily and lock the door before I sweep through my empty mansion, cleaning up the mess that my baby girl created in just a few short hours. The weight of exhaustion collides brutally into my bones and soon I'm stumbling into bed.

About an hour later, I'm startled awake by a sense of weight pressing upon my legs. My eyes spring to life as I wipe away the groggy sleep and discover far too many photo albums scattered all around my legs. I quickly fumble for one and when I hastily open up the first book it's a picture of a messy newborn fresh out of the womb.

My lips automatically turn into a frown because again I am hit with the gut wrenching pain of guilt. I quickly fumble for my phone on the nightstand and discover a text from Emma.

"_Sorry I forgot them earlier."_

My fingers tremble as I fight against the sleepy haze and the overwhelming emotions clouding my mind. I can't believe she poofed these albums here, even though I know she's still angry with me.

"_Thanks again. I cannot wait to dive into them."_

_"I'm glad you received them. I have videos too but they are all on my phone. I'll show you sometime."_

_"I can't wait."_

With that, I toss my phone aside and flick on my light. I curl up in bed and spend the next two hours memorizing every photo Emma has taken over the last five months, doing my very best to get to know my daughter's short life through photographs.


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

The last three months have flown by in a blink of an eye from how eventful each passing day has become. Even though Emma and I are excelling in coparenting there's no denying that awful tension still crackling between us like Fourth Of July sparklers. Yet, we still manage to ignore the tension and focus on Hope whenever need be.

One week after I started taking Hope on the weekends was the first time she crawled and luckily Emma and I were both present.

"_I made copies of all those photos, so you can take these when you leave." I nod toward the pile of albums upon the coffee table as I carefully watch Hope rock on her hands and knees._

_"Alright," Emma absentmindedly agrees as she packs up her breast milk packs and searches for Hope's favorite pacifier. Thankfully, there's not much else that we transfer between us now that I purchased everything I need for my house._

_I observe intently how Hope's right hand steadily lifts off the ground and proceeds just a little closer in my direction. On pure instinct, I hold my breath, waiting impatiently for her next move. She concentrates hard, staring with determination at a fluffy monkey that's a few inches in front of her._

_"Emma," I hiss under my breath, cautious not to disturb my baby's concentration._

_"What?" She tosses over her shoulder, not truly paying attention to Hope and I on the floor._

_"Look," I whisper as Hope slides her knees across the blanket._

_Emma spins around just in time to watch as Hope makes her first true movement forward in crawling. "Oh my god," my ex gasps with the goofiest grin slapped across her face. "Where's my phone?" She mutters to herself, persuading my eyes to flick up to find her frantically checking her pockets. "Where the hell is my phone?"_

_"Emma, look at her go," I gush as Hope finds the courage to crawl just a little closer to her monkey. I slowly drag the toy back, encouraging her to continue. "Come on, Hope, you're doing so well baby girl," I softly coo, wiggling her stuffed animal for motivation._

_"Dammit, Regina make her wait, I can't find my phone," Emma anxiously says as she digs through the bottle bag._

_"What the hell do you expect me to do?" I sarcastically quip, still in a soft and gentle tone for our baby's sake._

_"I don't know stall her," she frantically cries, searching all around the ground for her phone._

_"I can't stall her, that would be discouraging."_

_"I need to record this, push her down!"_

_"You're an idiot," I comment, waving my hand through the air and materializing my phone into Emma's hand._

_Emma rushes to my side, sinking down to the floor to lay upon her stomach, the phone outstretched in front of her ready to go._

_"Come on Hope," Emma enthusiastically cheers through a smile threatening to spilt her face right in half._

_"Come on baby girl, you're doing so well. Come get your monkey," I softly coo, forcing the stuffed animal to dance happily in front of her. Our daughter knits her eyebrows painfully together as she focuses on her prize. "That's exactly the face you make before you blast someone with magic," I whisper into Emma's side._

_"Really?" Emma chuckles lightly, but her eyes remain glued to our daughter. "I see you, with that cocky smirk, fully proud of yourself," she accuses through an amused laugh._

_"She's just aware of how intelligent she is," I smugly reply, with a smirk that I assume matches my daughter's right now._

_Hope proceeds to confidently crawl her way toward her toy, without ever fumbling. When she reaches my lap, I swoop her up into my arms, handing her the award while peppering her chubby cheek with praising kisses._

_"Mommy and I are so proud of you," I celebrate her milestone as Emma sends the video from my phone to herself._

_"I can't believe she crawled, she's getting so big, too fast," she pouts with her very prominent frown._

_I lean Hope over into her arms and watch as Emma showers her with love and encouraging words, while I silently pray that we are somehow always together when Hope discovers something new._

About two weeks after that, Hope was turning six months and it was time to introduce vegetables into her life. It was a Monday afternoon and I decided to sneak away from my office for a lunch break to meet Emma at her house. When I walked in, Hope was already strapped securely in her highchair, babbling on and on for Emma to finally feed her.

"_Someone is impatient," I comment as I sweep beside my daughter and place a sweet kiss to her forehead._

_"She acts like we deprive her from food," Emma huffs, feigning annoyance, but her smile is a dead giveaway that she's just teasing._

_"Well, she's just like her mother, let's just hope she doesn't inherit your sweet tooth as well," I disapprovingly comment as I slide into the seat next to Emma._

_"If I recall, you are the one with the sweet tooth, Miss Cinnamon Apple Pancakes," she teases, mixing Hope's baby spoon into the green mush in front of her._

_"How about you focus on feeding our daughter," I mock, narrowing my eyes at the playful woman._

_Emma hums to herself as she scoops the baby food onto the rubber spoon and flies the vegetable through the air. Hope's ecstatic eyes follow the spoon, full of anticipation and pure joy. Emma dips the spoon toward our daughter's thin little lips, inspiring Hope to open wide. We've been feeding her the baby cereal for almost a month now so she's accustomed to her spoon already._

_The tip of the spoon disappears inside Hope's mouth, instantaneously morphing our daughter's face into pure disgust. A very prominent frown molds around her mouth and her tongue forces the spoon out of her mouth. Dark little eyebrows draw closer together as she tries to work out the foreign taste upon her tongue._

_"I don't think she likes it," I comment, my mouth mirroring her frown automatically._

_"She probably just needs to get used to the taste, I'll give her another bite," Emma positively suggests as she scoops another spoonful._

_My frown deepens as Hope's eyes follow her other mother's every move. As soon as the vegetable nears her mouth, she presses her lips firmly together, denying her mother access._

_"Come on Hope, open up," Emma happily cheers, but Hope just scowls in return. "You are all your mother," she sasses, but neither Hope nor I find the humor in this situation. "Come on baby," she coos, flying the spoon into the air and making weird noises before she presses the spoon to her mouth and forces it inside._

_Without a moment of hesitation, Hope spits back out the vegetable, spraying green globs back at Emma._

_"Ewww, gross ," Emma pouts, quickly snatching up a napkin and wiping her face while I snicker to myself. "Not funny Regina," she coldly remarks._

_"What did you feed her?" I question, stealing the vegetable away to sniff it._

_"Peas."_

"_Peas?" I balk, tossing the small container back onto the table with disgust._

_I quickly stand from my chair and march into Emma's kitchen with determination. I dig through her baby cabinet and find a container of green beans instead. I warm up the vegetable a few seconds and saunter back into the dining room, where Emma is still cleaning up Hope's mess while our daughter pouts._

_"Let's try this baby girl," I softly coo, stealing the spoon and mixing the new vegetable._

_"What's that?"_

_"Green beans," I reply, slipping back into my seat. "Henry hated peas when he was little, I bet this little girl is just like her brother."_

_"Well peas are disgusting, but I assumed she's a baby and would eat anything."_

_I roll my eyes and slowly fly the spoon toward Hope. She is reluctant at first, assuming it's still those godawful peas, but after some convincing she opens up and skeptically pokes out her tongue for the tiniest taste._

_Those beautiful brown eyes brighten up with excitement as she opens wide, ready for more. "Good job baby girl," I praise and proceed to feed her the entire container._

_"Alright, no more peas," Emma chuckles as she glances over at me and smiles from ear to ear._

_I take a chance and peek over at the blonde whose smile is sparkling with love and adoration. My heart melts like hot wax from a burning flame and suddenly we are both lost in a trance of longing. It's been so long since we've been this comfortable around each other and we both sigh, from the familiarity. The moment doesn't last long though, because Hope very loudly bangs on her tray, demanding our full attention and cracking through the intimate moment._

One month later, we were tumbling right along into the end of October and Emma could not be more thrilled to dress Hope up for her very first Halloween. We had discussed an adorable plush little yellow duck complete with an orange beak and feet. However, much to my surprise, well shock, Emma popped into my office that day with a whole new emphasis on the word trick in the phrase trick or treat.

"_Sheriff Swan is here to see you."_

_"Send her in," I instruct with a warm smile already slipping into place knowing she has my daughter._

_"Trick or treat!" Emma sing songs as she struts into my office with the cockiest grin she has ever showcased._

_My eyes are immediately drawn to the fluffy yellow dress with bulky blue shoulders, provoking my smile to morph into a spiteful scowl._

_"Seriously?" I deadpan as my eyes take in what my poor daughter is dressed in, even a red headband to complete the ensemble._

_And god do I hate how much my daughter resembles the actual Snow White right now with her inky black tresses._

_Emma barks out an overly proud, carefree laugh as she strolls around my desk and plants Hope right into my lap._

_"I think she looks cute," she comments, cupping the back of our daughter's head._

"_You're the absolute worst," I grumble before wiping the sneer away from my face and smiling brightly at my daughter. "What did mommy do to you?" I softly inquire, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead while Hope babbles playfully._

_"Come on, you know you want to laugh."_

_"I do not."_

_"Yes, you do, I see the smirk...right...there," she pokes at the corner of my mouth, causing me to flinch._

_"Stop it," I scold, jerking away from the close proximity. "Where's her duck costume?"_

_"It's in the car, I just really, really, needed to do this," she giggles again, creating a sly smirk to inevitably grace my face. I will not grow tired of that beautiful sound._

_"Well, we can't allow this to go to waste," I tease, reaching across my desk for a perfectly deep red apple._

_"What are you doing?" Emma questions, tilting her head to the side as she watches me carefully readjust Hope in my lap to face forward._

_"Two can play at this game," I mischievously taunt, snatching up my phone and flipping the camera around to face Hope and I._

_Carefully, I show off the vibrant red apple right in front of Hope and lean over her shoulder. She smiles, already reaching for the apple, dressed in all her Snow White glory and I smirk back the camera. I capture the teasing picture and quickly send it to my baby's grandmother._

_"You're the worst," Emma groans as she bends down to steal Hope away._

_"Your mother will laugh and you know it," I smugly reply, switching off my computer to end the night so we can go trick or treating with the Charmings and little Neal._

_Not even a minute later my phone is buzzing across my desk. Emma peeks over my shoulder and groans again. "It's my mother."_

_I smile, ear to ear, fully proud of myself. I hastily unlock my device, absolutely giddy to discover her response._

_"Regina! Poisoning my granddaughter is not a laughing matter!"_

_Emma reads the message behind me and even snickers. "Hey, should we stop by your vault to dress you as the Evil Queen and send my mom another picture with you and Hope?"_

_"I do enjoy infuriating your mother," I sing song as we sweep out the door, ready to enjoy our baby's first Halloween together, as a family._

As the weeks passed by and the days all trickled into each other as one, Emma was becoming more comfortable with breezing through my home and I didn't feel a knot twisting in my heart every time I knew she was coming by. We sort of fell into a routine that neither one of us dared to break. It was easy now to coparent and I know she was just thankful for the tension to be slipping away as much as I was. There was an unspoken agreement that we would only discuss our children; whether it was Henry and his little family, or Wish Henry who still visited quite frequently or our daughter. Nothing more, nothing less and there's where we found peace.

"Hope! Regina!" Emma bellows through the mansion as she slams the front door closed.

"Your mother is just as loud as you," I tease, rolling my eyes which inspires those beautiful baby giggles to erupt passed the teething ring Hope is chewing on.

"There you two are," Emma sings as she spots Hope and I sitting across from each other on her play mat. "How have you been today?" She sing songs as she settles down next to Hope, roughly kissing her cheek while our daughter just giggles and squirms.

"She was good, but I think her gums are very itchy," I note, gesturing toward the drenched teething ring and drool soaked bib.

"Did you spot any teeth?" She happily questions, bobbing her head from left to right to try and catch a better glimpse inside our daughter's mouth.

"I haven't seen a thing," my hand automatically cups the back of Hope's head. "I even felt around in there, but I didn't feel anything."

"Hmmm, I'm sure we will see something soon. Henry was...ten...months?" She skeptically questions as her mind attempts to dig up those old fading memories.

"Yes, he had just turned ten months when his first tooth broke."

I sigh heavily, hating how old our son is now, with his own daughter. I lightly scratch the back of Hope's head before pushing myself off the ground and lifting her into my arms. Emma abruptly stands as well as we both pause and I wonder if she can feel the weight of my lingering unspoken question.

"Emma, I would like to discuss Hope staying through the weekends now. I have been very patient and I haven't brought it up, but it's been three months now," I calmly start off the conversation that I know she's been dreading.

Immediately her nervous energy buzzes around her as she shoves her hands into her back pockets. She inhales deeply and slowly releases her breath with apprehension.

"I know," she whines as her eyes trail toward our daughter to ease her pain. "Ugh, you're right. I'm sorry, I-I just..." she rolls her eyes most likely from her frustrations of her mouth not cooperating with her brain and sighs again. "Of course she's comfortable enough with you to sleep over."

"And Wednesday nights as well?" I curiously inquire, one uncertain eyebrow crawling up my forehead, but Emma winces in response even though her head is shaking her approval. "Thank you," I sincerely respond.

Those pale lips slip into a frown as she reaches for Hope and our daughter is already wiggling closer to her other mother. Emma releases a slow exhale as Hope melts in her embrace and she kisses her nose, that frown lingering against our daughter's cheek.

"So, I'll see you Wednesday?"

"Yup," she sadly confirms as I escort her to the door.

Every time it becomes harder and harder to say goodbye and I'm hoping the overnights will help ease the pain. However, in the back of my mind I know it's just going to make these transfers even harder.

"Bye baby girl, I'll see you soon. Drive safe Emma."

"Good night, Regina," she sadly replies, sounding as if the formality was just an auto programmed reflex.

I softly close my door, my forehead resting against the heavy wood as if my skin is magnetized to it. My eyes flutter close as I try to stop the ache twisting and turning in my heart. Why does this damn woman always take my children away?

XXXXXXXXX 

My body flings forward in bed before my mind even has a chance to figure out where I am. I rapidly blink away the sleep because this strong eerie sensation is thumping painfully in my heart. There's an overpowering twist in my gut and before I even take my next breath, I'm searching frantically for my phone.

My heart leaps to my throat and chokes the air out of my lungs when I discover two text messages from Emma around midnight.

"_Hey, Hope's temperature is kind of high. I gave her Tylenol, but it doesn't seem to be working."_

"_Sorry to bother you, but I just can't get Hope to calm down and I really don't know what to do."_

I don't even take another second to think, I just flick my wrist and transport myself into Emma's bedroom.

"Jesus!" Emma screams, matching our daughter's hysterical cries.

"I'm sorry, I just got your message and I was half asleep and I guess I panicked," I ramble out as my cheeks burn from embarrassment, thankfully the lights are dim and I don't think she can make out my blush right now. "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know. I thought it was her teeth and maybe that's why she spiked a fever, but god Regina it's too high and won't go down," she complains, bouncing Hope up and down as she paces like a lunatic across her bedroom.

"Okay, relax," I softly instruct and hold out my arms, encouraging her to place Hope inside.

My eyes quickly absorb the state my daughter is in, from her scarlet cheeks stained with salty tears to her runny nose and chapped lips. I press my lips to her forehead to feel just how warm she is, even though I can feel the sticky heat radiating off of her body.

"I don't think it's her teeth," Emma anxiously mutters, nibbling on her thumb nail as a distraction.

"I don't believe so, do you have baby Motrin as well?" I softly question in my most gentle voice as I rock Hope back and forth.

"Uh, I think."

"Go, check. The easiest way to break a fever this high is to switch between Tylenol and Motrin every two hours."

"Isn't that a bit much?"

"She will be fine, I promise. I'm going to change her pajamas, these are soaked."

"Alright." Emma nervously fumbles out of the room and charges down her stairs while I carry Hope into her room.

"Sssshhhh, it's okay baby girl. Momma's here, you're going to be just fine," I gently coo as I reach with one hand to yank open her drawer.

Hope shrieks in pain, piercing directly into my heart and god how I wish I could soothe whatever seems to be bothering her. "I know, baby, it's okay," I reiterate, pulling out a thinner pair of pajamas, hoping to cool down her body.

"Okay, I have Motrin," Emma heaves as she runs back into the bedroom. "I also got her a cold washcloth for her head."

"Perfect."

I'm just about to lay Hope down on her floor to change her, but Emma is leading the way back into her bedroom. I press my lips to Hope's forehead and carry her back into her mother's room. Very carefully I lay her down on the bed as Emma tries to wedge her favorite pacifier into her mouth.

I hastily unzip her pajamas and peel away the damp fabric as Hope's desperate cries force her pacifier right out of her mouth. Emma is quick to fly the butterfly right back into her mouth. Hope whimpers behind the paci, hiccuping and searching for more air.

"Ssshhhh, baby, we are right here," Emma softly whispers, dabbing the cold washcloth to her forehead. "I hate that she can't tell us what's wrong."

"I know," I sadly agree, snapping the buttons on Hope's new pajamas all the way up. I gently scoop her into my arms and rest her head against my chest while I rock forward and backward. "Can you get her a sippy cup of water?" I whisper, prompting Emma to nod and rush right out the door.

I hum, _You Are My Sunshine_, and continue gently rocking her, allowing the vibrations in my chest to soothe her pitiful whimpers of distress. My heart aches, wishing I could absorb all this pain for myself and soothe my baby.

Soon, Emma is stumbling back into the room with a fresh cup of water and sitting down beside me on the bed. "You need to calm down, she's going to be just fine," I confidently state, but that doesn't erase the frown upon Emma's washed out face.

"Here baby," Emma carefully removes Hope's pacifier and offers the sippy cup, very carefully allowing our daughter small sips.

This poor baby swallows hard as she tries to accept as much of the water as possible. "Either she has a sore throat or it's just dry from all her crying," I comment from the harsh gulps producing from Hope's throat.

"She has been wailing for a while now."

Emma slowly sneaks the pacifier back into Hope's mouth and fiddles anxiously with her cup. "She's calming down now, she's going to be just fine."

"Because of you," Emma bitterly retorts.

"No, because of us," I state with conviction, but Emma isn't having any of it.

So, we sit there upon Emma's bed, listening to Hope's heaving as she tries to calm herself back down. The tension is slowly building between us again and I can only take a million guesses as to where Emma Swan's head is at tonight, but I can't dwell on that right now. I methodically run my fingers through Hope's dark tresses all the way to ends that flip out near her temple.

"She's almost asleep," I murmur, "I should probably go now."

"No," Emma abruptly whispers, startling me the slightest bit. "Why don't you stay, I'm sure Hope will want both of us here." She offers the faintest of smiles as she sinks down onto her bed.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure what is best, but then I feel Hope nuzzle against my chest and all my willpower to utter the small _no_, vanishes from existence. Gradually, I slither down onto the bed, conscience of my body and how much distance I place between Emma and I. My fingers gently massage Hope's scalp as my other hand gently rubs her back. I can practically feel how stiff Emma is beside me, neither one of us risking to budge even a smidge in case we accidentally bump into one another.

So, we proceed to lay shoulder to shoulder in the most uncomfortable tension that reminds me of the first night we kissed and had to suffer a night in a cramped tent, side by side, because I rejected her. The blood is pounding viciously just beneath my skin knowing that the woman I am madly in love with is laying down beside me in bed.

I release a deep breath that I didn't even know I was holding and focus on my ministrations. Softly, I begin to hum again, my heart filling with so much love when Hope sighs and nuzzles further into my chest.

"I think she's asleep," Emma whispers into the night and I can just barely make out her face from the hall light still illuminating her room from the cracked door.

"Why don't you try and sleep as well. I'm sure she will be up shortly," I kindly offer, thinking back to when Henry was a baby and remembering how these always seem to end up being such long nights.

"I'm okay," she murmurs, but the dark circles below her dull eyes and her washed out complexion tells a different story. "Thank you for calming her down," she whispers as her fingertips lightly drag against Hope's sticky forehead to brush back some damp strands.

"No need to thank me. I'm sure you were just exhausted from her cries," I try to assure her, but the way her eyes flutter closed forces me to suspect that she still feels ashamed for needing my assistance. "I'm so glad you called me, it really means a lot to me. I want to be here for moments like these," I genuine reply and hope she understands just how important it is for me to participate at a time like this.

"Of course," she mumbles as her hand slips away from Hope's forehead, landing right beside my arm.

I glance to my right to find Emma's face slowly relaxing as exhaustion finally consumes her and she drifts off. Yet, there's still an adorable pinch between her sandy thin eyebrows and I know she's still worrying in her sleep for our baby. I cuddle Hope closer against my chest and close my eyes, not wanting to disturb either one of my sleeping beauties.

XXXXXXXXX 

A high pitched wail screeches through the night and startles me wide awake. On pure instinct, I wrap my arms securely around Hope knowing I fell asleep with her upon my chest, except she's not there and my heart furiously pounds against my chest sending fear and panic to drown out any other thought.

"Ssshhhh baby, mommy is here, it's okay baby," Emma softly coos through the night.

My eyes quickly sweep across the room until I locate Emma's beautiful figure glowing from the watery moon spilling through her window. I sigh in relief as I watch her whisper soothing words to our baby, gently rocking her and placing kiss after loving kiss against her forehead.

However, there's an awful sound gurgling and shattering the precious moment. "Emma, run," my raspy voice croaks out, but it's too late.

"Wha-oh god!" Emma whines as Hope empties her stomach all over the sheriff's exposed chest from her flimsy tank top.

I flinch in response, but quickly scramble into action when Hope wails even louder, terrified from not knowing what just occurred. I rush toward the door, with Emma hot on my heels as we dash toward the bathroom.

"I'll run her a bath," I explain as my hand quickly turns on the water and adjusts her princess bathtub inside the shower.

"Ugh, it's so hot and sliding down my chest," Emma whines as she continues to gently rock our screaming baby.

"I know," I absentmindedly reply, testing the running water before filling her tub. "Here, let me help you get her out of these pajamas."

My fingers work to their own accord, releasing Hope from her new pajamas and tearing away her diaper. I carefully lift her into my arms and settle her against my chest as I test her water again.

"I'll go grab her new jammies."

"Thank you and then go shower in your bathroom," I instruct as she nods frantically and runs out the door. "Sshhhh baby, I know," I whisper softly before carefully placing Hope into her tub.

Those pitiful big brown eyes are sparkling with thick tears as she blinks up at me. I frown, dipping my hand into the water to wipe her face clear. "What's wrong baby? Is it your tummy? Or your throat?" I ignorantly question knowing damn well she cannot respond.

Hope hiccups and gasps for oxygen as she stares back at me, just pleading with me to stop the misery within her tiny little body.

"Here," Emma places Hope's clean pajamas down on the vanity before she scoops up the dirty ones. "How do you feel baby?" She questions, peering into our baby's puffy eyes.

"She's calming down, go ahead and shower real quick," I command, delicately washing Hope with some bedtime soap that will hopefully help her relax.

"Okay, I'll be real quick."

I wave her off, focusing all my attention on the whimpering baby in front of me. "Did you get mommy real good?" I snicker which inspires that faintest of smirks to tug at the corner of Hope's mouth. "Momma is so proud of you."

"I heard that," Emma scolds, popping her head back in the bathroom and startling me, producing the smallest little giggle from our daughter. "It's not funny, you two," she teases with the goofiest grin which effectively brightens up Hope's mood and smile.

"Go shower," I demand, playfully rolling my eyes which always seems to make this beautiful baby giggle hard.

"Only if you two promise not to gang up on me while I'm gone."

"Emma, please, it's not appropriate to force our daughter to lie at such a young age," I mock sincerely while Hope's thick, wet, eyelashes blink between her mother and I.

"Do you want me to hug you? Because I swear, I'll do it right now," Emma taunts mischievously as I whip a towel at her, but she quickly dodges it.

"Go shower!" I firmly order while Hope snickers beside me. My daughter and I watch as Emma chuckles to herself and finally leaves us alone. "She's _your_ mommy," I playfully comment.

"Ma-ma-ma-ma."

My body instinctively jerks back before I freeze momentarily, intently studying my daughter's frown and glossy eyes. "Did...did you just say momma?"

Hope blinks back at me, her eyelashes sticking together from her thick, salty, tears. My heart races from the euphoric buzz of pure joy. I wet my lips and slowly repeat myself. "Ma-ma."

"Ma, ma, ma."

My eyes widen as the stupidest grin slips over my face. "Oh my god, that's right baby girl, mama," I happily praise her and quickly fumble for her towel to scoop her out of the tub.

I place the hooded towel over her head and wrap her up tight. The baby towel is created to look exactly like a ladybug and I can't help but smile at how adorable she looks, even while she's miserable at the moment.

"Emma," I call out through her bedroom, not at all thinking of the state I may find her because I'm too ecstatic that our baby just said our name. "Emma!"

"Regina? What's wrong?" She hysterically replies, poking her soapy head out of the shower glass door.

Of course Emma is standing there confidently naked through a very see through glass door, but I swallow down my desires and blink away my thoughts before they become too hazy.

"Hope said her first word."

"What?!" Emma shrieks, stumbling out of the shower that is still running and hastily reaches for a towel to wrap around her midsection. "What did she say?"

"Ma. Ma. Ma," I repeat slowly, staring deep into her big brown eyes, encouraging our baby to mimic my words again.

Hope excitedly pats my cheeks with both hands before Emma steals her away from my embrace. "Did you say momma?"

"Ma, ma," she sleepily replies, her eyelids growing heavy from exhaustion.

"Oh baby! Ah I'm so proud of you," Emma gushes, peppering our daughter's cheek with forceful kisses. "Ugh, I love you so much."

"Em, jump back in the shower, the water is still running," I laugh as I gently cuddle Hope against my chest. "I'll go get her dressed."

"Alright," the very wet blonde happily cheers as she confidently discards her towel, exposing her naked backside, one of many of my favorite things about Emma Swan. "I can't believe she said our name," she laughs mindlessly to herself, blissfully ignorant to how delicious those beads of water droplets cascade down her slick flesh and maneuver around each defined muscle.

Hope's little pudgy fingers play with my bottom lip, forcing my glorious thoughts away and demanding my full attention. I playfully nibble at her fingers, which usually is a sure way to win the most adorable giggles, but she just frowns instead.

"Okay my baby, lets go get cozy in some pajamas," I softly whisper and rest her head against my chest as we make our way back into her bathroom. "Oh look, mommy picked out the duckies," I acknowledge with my best animal impression, but this girl is not amused.

I sigh and gently lay her down on the thick mat as I quickly dress her. I gently place her in my lap when she's all dressed and softly run her brush through her damp hair. All too quickly the same awful gurgling noise bubbles up again, but this time I am right in front of the toilet and have plenty of time to hold her over. Not much comes out this time, luckily, but it's enough to scare her and provoke more tears.

I carefully clean her mouth and wipe away her tears before nuzzling her close to my chest again. I stroll back into Emma's room just as she finishes tugging on another tank top.

"She was sick again," I sadly comment and delicately reclaim my seat upon the bed once more.

"Awww, what the hell did she catch?"

"I have no clue," I whisper, gently rubbing her back to soothe her aftermath whimpers and heaves. "Do you have a blow drier so she doesn't sleep with a wet head?"

"Seriously? She's half asleep."

"I still don't want her sleeping with a wet head while she's sick."

"Alright," Emma suspiciously questions, but decides not to push the matter.

XXXXXXXXX 

After Emma finishes with Hope's hair while I hold our baby, we carefully place her in the middle of the bed. Her eyes are already drooping from pure exhaustion and we wanted to keep a close eye on her while she sleeps.

"I can't believe she said her first word, that was amazing," Emma whispers as her fingers trail through Hope's silky strands and my hand continues to rub our daughter's back to keep her content.

"It was," I breathe out, still smiling down upon our peaceful baby.

I observe very closely how Emma's fingertips create a path down Hope's head toward her neck, while my hand just so happens to be traveling up our baby's back. My ex's fingers just lightly graze my hand, persuading my eyes to flick toward hers, because I know her well enough to know she did that on purpose. There's no way, this woman would make contact if she didn't _want_ to.

However, as her beautiful face comes into my line of sight, she's purposely avoiding my eyes, studying our daughter instead. I purse my lips and wonder what she is trying to accomplish here.

I slowly retract my hand from Hope's back and rest my arm beside my daughter, my hand falling into the empty spot just below the rubber feet on her pajamas. I watch as Emma's hand lightly navigates up and down the entire length of our baby for several moments before her hand slips away and mirrors mine on the other side of Hope.

Sleep is a necessity at this point, because it's well after three in the morning now and my eyelids can no longer find the strength to stay open. My body sinks further into the mattress as exhaustion coils itself possessively around my limbs and I start to drift asleep.

Yet, just before I fully slip away I feel the cool brush of velvety skin graze over my fingers and then, like it's the most natural thing in the world, Emma slithers her fingers into mine and we both surrender to the sandman.


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

The faint sounds of whimpering resonate somewhere in my mind, but my greatest concern is the amount of heat I am suffocating in. The thick humidity is clinging to the air and throbbing all around me, forcing a panic to startle me awake.

I glance down to my right to discover Hope wrestling in her sleep. Her cheeks are stained a deep red that makes even my brightest apples appear dull. Her thin pale lips are chapped and parted as she breathes through her mouth because of her stuffy nose. The little ends of her dark tresses are damp and clinging to her face and that's when I fully commit to waking up and quickly scoop her into my arms.

As I'm sliding up in bed, I do notice Emma's long limbs entangled in my legs, swirling together in a beautiful mess of confusion. I furrow my brows and gape at the inappropriate closeness as Hope whimpers and cuddles further into my chest.

"Ssshhh, honey," I whisper and slowly crawl out of bed, conscience not to disturb Emma.

I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand before my feet hit the ground. It's just after seven and even though I know Emma doesn't have work today, I still feel compelled to call off so we can both take care of Hope. Obviously, we will need to bring her into the doctor today.

I sneak across the bedroom and slip out the door just as Hope is slowly waking up. Those curious brown eyes blink up at me, still glossy from the sickness festering inside. I quietly enter her room, pick out a new pair of pajamas and a fresh diaper before tip toeing downstairs.

Quietly, I lay Hope down on the couch and change her soaked pajamas and rather dry diaper for sleeping through the night. Which is now a concern of mine, wondering if maybe she is dehydrated.

"Come on honey, let's see if you'll eat some oatmeal this morning," I softly whisper as I rest her on my hip and carry her into the kitchen.

"Okay, are we thinking apple or banana this morning?" I question, settling her down into her highchair and strapping her in securely.

I swiftly make my way around Emma's kitchen, preparing a pot of coffee while simultaneously calling my secretary to inform her that I will not be coming into the office today and instructing her on what needs to be accomplished. I then proceed to whip up a bottle and some banana oatmeal for Hope.

I finally sink into the seat in front of Hope's highchair and attempt to feed her. There's a full pout upon her lips, just like her blonde mother's permanent frown which only provokes my own mouth to turn down as well. Her big brown eyes are still glossy and red rimmed from all the tears she shed last night.

"Okay baby girl," I cheerfully fly her spoon through the air toward her mouth, but this action only seems to deepen her frown. "Just a little bite, Hope," I softly encourage, inspiring her bottom lip to quiver and her eyes to swell with tears.

I sigh heavily and place the spoon back in the bowl. "Okay, how about your bottle?" I carefully ask, snatching up her bottle and pressing it to her lips. Hope instantly turns her cheek to the bottle and squeezes her eyes shut. I exhale a long breath of frustration as I contemplate what to do.

"Hey," Emma's groggy voice startles my mind back to reality. "Sorry, I didn't hear you two get up," she meekly says as she shuffles into the room, but I just wave her off while she kisses Hope on the forehead. "She's still burning up."

"I know," I sigh and eye my daughter, "she refuses to eat too."

"She won't even drink her bottle?" She shockingly inquires as she prepares herself a cup of coffee.

"No. I think we should take her in today."

"Of course, but I can take her. Don't you have to work?"

"It's fine, I already called off today. I rather be here for Hope and anything that really needs to be done I can accomplish from home."

"Oh, alright. Good," Emma nervously replies as she slips into the chair on the other side of Hope's highchair.

"Are you sure that's okay?" I skeptically question, because she does have an expression of panic flickering across her features.

"Yeah, of course," she hastily replies. "Like I said last night, I'm sure Hope will prefer if we are both here."

"Thank you," I whisper, before clearing my throat. "Why don't you call her pediatrician and I will try and give her some Motrin for her fever."

"Prefect," she happily accepts while I try not to dwell on how domesticated this morning has quickly turned into.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Just a virus," Emma scoffs bitterly as we tumble into her home from pure exhaustion swarming miserably around us.

"This is exactly why I never even bother with doctors," I grumble under my breath because Hope has finally stopped crying and I don't want to startle her again.

"Do you even get sick? Was that part of your perks of the curse? I don't think I have ever seen you sick," she rambles on while I ignore her and climb her stairs to put Hope down for her nap. "I mean, you don't age, you don't get sick...are you even real?"

"You're delirious, dear. I am going to put Hope to bed and it's nap time for you as well," I firmly demand.

"Oh thank god, I'm so exhausted."

Emma and I quietly enter our daughter's room, noticing how Hope's eyes are already dropping closed. I lean over her crib and gently lay her down with a smile upon my face that seems to be permanent now that she has come into my life. Emma delicately slides her favorite pacifier into her mouth and runs her fingers lovingly across her forehead. We both hesitate for a moment, smiling and watching over our baby girl before we both turn to exit.

Once we tip toe into the hall, we both awkwardly linger, the tangible tension thumping between us becoming far too much and rendering us speechless. Emma shoves her hands into her back pockets and rocks nervously while I fiddle with my fingers.

"So, do you," Emma begins while I whisper, "I think you..." and we both fall embarrassingly silent as I curse myself for appearing so weak and unsure.

I clear my throat, signaling that I will speak again. "I think you should rest while Hope is sleeping, you hardly slept last night."

"Neither did you," she pouts and even out of my peripheral vision, I can still notice the way her eyes are roaming over my face, searching for some answer to a question she never vocalized.

"I have some emails I need to answer for work," I hastily reply, uncertain where this conversation is headed.

"Alright, well...you can hang out in my room in case Hope needs us," she timidly offers and I swear I can feel her nervous energy throbbing all around us.

"I don't want to disturb you while you try and sleep," I kindly decline, hoping she won't quickly turn agitated from the obvious rejection.

"Oh, okay," she mutters, provoking a pang of regret and guilt to pierce my broken heart. "Uh, my guest bedroom is right there," she points to another door down the hall, "you are more than welcome to work in there."

I smile politely and nod curtly as I step around her. "Thank you."

She simply hums in response as she darts back into her bedroom without another awkward exchange between us. I breathe out a heavy sigh the moment she's out of sight and that's when I realize, I must have been holding my breath the entire time.

I suddenly feel an urgency to dash into her spare bedroom just to ensure more space between us so I can think and breathe properly without her alluring vanilla scent clouding my judgement. When I enter, I'm actually thrown off a bit from how clean and modern this room appears to be. There's a queen sized bed decorated in a warm grey with teal accent colored pillows in the middle of the room. The drapes are wide open, granting the warm afternoon sun to brighten up the room. Off in the corner there is a desk and an office chair which is exactly what I need to focus on my work right now.

The moment I sit down and open up my email on my phone, Hope belts out a wail that forces my heart to pound fiercely against my chest. Without a second thought I run into her room and of course Emma and I practically collide in the hallway. I allow Emma to proceed first and follow her into Hope's room, silently praying that she didn't vomit in her crib.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Emma softly coos as she gingerly lifts our daughter from the crib.

Hope's dark locks are clinging to her forehead as she cries hysterically behind her pacifier. I press my palm to her forehead and wipe away the sweat pouring from her flushed complexion.

"Maybe she will feel more comfortable sleeping with you," I suggest, my lips automatically curling down as I see the pain flashing across her sorrowful eyes.

"Won't she get used to sleeping with me then and not want to sleep in her crib?"

"She's sick right now, it may take her a few days to fall back into her routine and sleeping alone, but right now she needs to feel comfortable," I whisper, swooping some damp curls behind her ear.

"Alright, come on Hope," she murmurs into our daughter's hair as she carries her back into her room and I don't even think twice, I just follow right along with them.

Emma scoots onto her bed and sinks into the mattress with Hope whimpering on her chest. My feet are moving to their own accord, crawling onto the side of the bed where I slept last night, where I have slept many of nights in the past, but I push that thought aside and slowly rub up and down Hope's back.

Emma's enticing orbs follow my every move to soothe our daughter, but then they trail over toward my arm and follow the path until she's studying my face with a serious expression straining the muscles around her mouth.

I slowly raise one eyebrow in questioning, not wanting to disrupt our sleepy baby. Just one corner of her mouth deepens and I'm not quite sure if it's a smile or a frown, but the gesture somehow steals my breath away and I'm suddenly very aware how close this beautiful woman is next to me.

"We are glad you're here," she whispers so faintly that if I wasn't busy memorizing her lips right now, I would have missed the heartfelt sentiment.

"There's no place I rather be," I fully admit, inspiring the most dorky smile to consume her face.

That's exactly how we drift off to sleep, gazing into each other's eyes, each with a hand protectively upon our daughter's back and finally at peace.

XXXXXXXXX 

"Ma. Ma. Ma. Ma."

The angelic whispers sing through the air, persuading my heavy eyelashes to flutter open. There's an adorable snickering that follows and I am quickly reminded how much I miss Emma's carefree laugh. I blink away the sleep and attempt to stretch out my stiff limbs, however there seems to be something blocking my space.

Gradually, I peek one eye open to discover the side of Emma's face very much in lips reach. My mind is suddenly wide awake and I discover that I am cuddled up against Emma's side. Apparently, subconsciously, I found comfort in her warmth and decided sharing a pillow was the logical action to proceed with. My torso is firmly molded into her side with my leg draped across both of hers, silently claiming her body as only mine and I blush crimson.

"Hi momma, did you sleep well?" Emma asks in her most sappy baby voice while Hope smiles behind her pacifier, her big curious eyes bouncing between her mothers.

I slowly pull away, forcing some much needed distance between us, but then Hope is reaching for my face and I find myself instantly rolling back into my spot.

"Hi my sweet baby." She crawls up Emma's chest and burrows into the warmth between Emma and I. "Are you feeling better?" I mindlessly question as my fingers tread through her soft baby strands.

"I think she is," Emma happily concedes, snuggling closer into Hope and I.

I swallow thickly, my heart actually ceasing in my chest from the proximity. I curse myself, hating how easily I'm throwing caution to the wind and allowing this type of behavior to occur. And I hate how wonderful this feels and how whole I feel inside with these two wrapped up in my arms. Their love is rapidly seeping into my heart and filling all those broken cracks with a warmth that so easily pieces my heart back together again.

My skin is crawling, pleading with me to remove myself, protect my heart and get the hell out of here before things become far too complicated to fix. Emma and I are finally in a good place between us, coparenting so well with Hope and she's happy. Our baby is so happy and I don't want to ruin what solid grounds Emma and I have which will inevitably hurt Hope in the end.

"Momma. Momma," Hope babbles around her pacifier, instantly evaporating every negative thought taunting my mind and bringing a smile to my face.

"I will never get sick of hearing that," Emma swoons, snuggling even further into her tightly wound little family, chipping away another layer of my armor and softening me up.

"I know," I agree, pressing my lips to Hope's temple and noting how much cooler her skin feels. "I think her fever is down," I softly acknowledge. "Maybe we should try and feed her while she's feeling better."

"Five more minutes, you're both so cuddly right now," Emma muses with the goofiest grin slapped across her face.

"I am not," I lamely protest, but this only widens that stupid smile.

"Yes you are. We've already established this, the big bad Evil Queen is nothing but a softy." I am just about to open my mouth and rebuttal, but, "Now, enjoy this precious moment cuddling with our daughter."

I would be a fool to argue with that.

XXXXXXXXX 

Thankfully, Hope's fever went down and she was in higher spirits so we were able to feed her and to both of our surprise, Hope kept her food down. Even after lunch, she played a little with Emma and I on the floor, but she did grow tired rather quickly. We spent the rest of the afternoon on Emma's couch. I tended to my emails while Emma sang playfully songs to Hope and eventually watched a movie as our daughter fought against another nap.

Around dinner time, Hope was running a slight fever again and the exhaustion haunting her eyes was depressing. She ate some of her dinner while Emma and I ate takeout from Granny's, neither one of us finding the motivation to cook this evening.

"Would you like to help put Hope down before you go?" Emma kindly offers as she clears our plates and I wipe down our sleepy daughter.

"I would love to," I happily agree, unbuckling Hope and lifting her into my arms.

"I'm thinking she might go down early, she's pretty wiped."

"I agree." I press my lips to her forehead, lingering for a moment to test her temperature again. "Tylenol before bed?"

Emma peeks over her shoulder while rinsing a plate and examines Hope's droopy eyes again. "Is she warm?" I nod, holding Hopes head close to my lips once more. "Yeah, probably. Maybe it will help her sleep," she shrugs and focuses back on her task at hand.

I swiftly maneuver Hope onto my hip and measure out her medicine while Emma finishes up with the dishes. "Open up honey," I softly instruct and notice right away how Emma peeks over her shoulder and smiles brighter than the sun.

Hope cautiously parts her lips, unsure if she trusts this medicine again. I carefully place the syringe in her mouth and slowly push the liquid into her mouth. "All done," I cheer, offering Hope a little water from her sippy cup while Emma steals the syringe from my hand to clean. Hope sips the smallest amount before shoving the cup back in my face. "Someone's sleepy." I gently slide her toward my front and immediately she cuddles against my chest.

"Yes, I'm exhausted," Emma replies while I just roll my eyes and head toward her stairs with the sheriff hot on my heels.

When we enter Hope's room, Emma turns on our daughter's nightlight that projects stars above her crib before settling down on a rocking chair in the corner of the room. I lean over and place Hope in her arms as Emma's eyes scan the room in search of something.

"I forgot to grab her book." I nod and find the book on Hope's shelf and hand it back to Emma for her to read. "Thanks." I smile politely and linger awkwardly near the dresser, self-conscious and completely unsure where I belong in this room. Emma props up the book in front of Hope before her eyes trail back to my shadowy figure. "Come take a seat," she smiles while I raise one eyebrow in response, wordlessly acknowledging that there isn't another seat in the room.

She smirks mischievously as she pats the armrest. I roll my eyes, but my feet are already shuffling forward, needing to be near my daughter once again. I carefully balance myself on the armrest and rest my hands in my lap while Emma smiles up at me with such an endearing grin that I find myself leaning in just a smidge closer.

"Once upon a time, there was a dear little girl who was loved by every one who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother," Emma enthusiastically reads while Hope taps the little girl dressed in red.

"Little Red Riding Hood?" I whisper, leaning in closer into Emma's ear and I don't have to see this woman to know she's smirking.

"Yes, it's her favorite right now."

"Ruby will be ecstatic," I muse while Emma nods along and continues reading.

Halfway through the story Hope slumps in defeat and softly snores, prompting Emma to close the book and finish the tale early. I take the book from her grasp and set it back down on the dresser while Emma carries Hope to her crib. She gently sets her down inside and the sight alone makes me breathless. There's just something about Emma so delicate with our baby that we created out of pure love that sends my heart soaring.

My fingers are already moving to sweep Hope's dark tresses away from her face as Emma's hand rests upon Hope's stomach. We somehow become lost in a daze, just watching over our daughter as she peacefully sleeps. There's not a sound in the room beside the faint whispers of our baby breathing a steady rhythm of tranquility. All too quickly, our hands are retracting and we are both tip toeing out of her room.

Emma closes the door about halfway before we both pause in this damn hallway that always seems to trap us in a world of uncertainty. I carefully fold my arms across my chest, subconsciously creating a protective barrier over my heart. This corky woman shoves her hands into her pocket just as she always does when the tangible tension becomes far too overwhelming.

"Thanks for staying today," she whispers with her eyes cast down, but her feet scuffing closer into my own personal space. "I think it was good for Hope to have both of us taking care of her."

"Of course," I breathlessly reply, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as I decide if I want to take a chance and glance at her. "I really appreciate you allowing me to stay, it means the world to me."

"Why wouldn't I want you here?" She murmurs and suddenly her alluring scent is wafting all around me and trapping me in her charms.

"Emma," I grumble, ready to rebuttal, but she encloses the last step between us, extinguishing the fiery words ready to ignite from my mouth.

"No, seriously. Why wouldn't I want you here? You're Hope's mother," she breathes against my lips, inspiring my eyes to flick down to the pretty little pout sculpting her mouth. "You're my one true love."

"Emma," I scold in a warning tone, but my body is reluctant to maneuver out of her heart stopping gaze and reclaim the upper hand.

"You're right, none of that matters," she murmurs under her breath. "I want you here because I am madly in love with you," she confesses, immobilizing every fiber that creates the body I live and breathe from.

My mouth pops open to say what, I haven't a clue, but it's pointless because she takes an assertive step forward and crushes her mouth against my parted lips while her palm cups my cheek and her fingers swim through a sea of messy locks. I gasp on instinct, inspiring this bold woman to take another step forward, backing me up against her wall.

My heart pounds so severely in my chest, I am sure I won't survive the vicious thumping and the intensity of this kiss. My hands have a mind of their own, moving to her face to somehow pull her in even closer. She moans immediately from my touch, deepening the kiss with her warm tongue claiming my mouth possessively and I melt. My body slumps against the wall as her body presses further against mine and everything around us evaporates from existence leaving nothing behind but her and I.

Emma releases a deep guttural groan as though she's furious that she physically can't get any closer to my body. Suddenly I'm drifting back down to reality and I'm turning my face, breaking the kiss.

"Hope," I pant, desperately searching for fresh air to fill my lungs as Emma's mouth travels down my neck.

"She won't hear," she mumbles incoherently against the sensitive flesh beneath my ear creating delicious shivers to trickle down my spine.

"No, I mean, we can't because I don't want to hurt her," I whine, my body involuntarily squirming from her hot breath and suggestive kisses.

"We won't," she states with conviction before she sucks my skin between her teeth, generating a flutter of need to twitch between my thighs.

"We are getting along so well," I breathlessly whisper and fight against the moan gurgling in the back of my throat. "I don't want us to fall apart and break our baby's heart," I whine, stilling all Emma's actions.

She pauses, breathing heavily against my neck while I myself try to breathe through my arousal. Slowly she slips away from my neck, producing a pout to form around my mouth, because as much as I needed her to stop, I truly didn't _want_ her to. However, she doesn't drift away too far, her body remains pressed firmly against mine as her eyes meet my gaze.

"We are destined for one another. We are soulmates, we created our baby out of true love. We will _not_ fall, we will _not_ break. We are going to come out on top and live the rest of our lives madly in love."

My eyes glisten from the conviction lacing her words and it's physically painful to hold back these tears. "How are you so certain? Look at our track record of past relationships."

"Maybe," she shrugs innocently, but then she dips forward, her nose just kissing the tip of mine. "Or maybe it's because we were never together and they all had to fail to bring us to this very moment."

I gulp thickly, swallowing down the sob that's begging to be set free from all the pain and heartache I have ever endured in my past.

"Listen," she pecks my lips in the most tender and intimate way, inspiring me to pay close attention. "We can stop right now and take a moment to breathe, but please don't leave tonight," she implores with those big sappy puppy dog eyes that express how much she truly is in love with me.

"I-"

"Please stay," she just barely whispers against my lips.

"Okay," I cave just before I connect our lips and push off the wall, walking her blindly back into her room.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

The moment we stumble into Emma's room, she is flipping us around, taking the lead just to ensure that she is the one to lay me down gently onto her bed. I quickly lift my leg, pressing my heel into the edge of the mattress to push myself up while Emma's warm body molds perfectly on top of mine. Her left hand holds my face into place as she deepens the kiss all while her right hand caresses up my raised thigh until she squeezes some affection into my bottom. We are lost in a sea of passion that's all teeth and tongues as we yearn for more.

However, I know in my frantic beating heart that all of this needs to slow down if we ever want to make it out of this relationship alive. My fingers slither underneath her unruly hair and intertwine behind her neck, pulling her in for one deep tender kiss that I make sure to dominate and slow our rhythm down. She instantly sighs, the weight of her body slumping on top of mine as she succumbs to my passion.

"Emma," I mutter into her mouth, prompting her to nod and slowly end our kiss.

"I know," she agrees to my wordless request and rolls onto her side. "How about some fresh pajamas for tonight?" She cheerfully offers, pecking my lips once more before she leaps from her bed and rummages through her dressers.

"Thank you." I slowly push myself off her bed, fluffing out my hair before I accept the pajamas.

"So, is it safe to assume you never finished watching SVU?" Emma cheekily replies as she slowly unbuttons her jeans, ready to change into her flannel bottoms, not at all shy after how many nights she changed in front of me during our brief relationship.

I smirk to myself before averting my attention to my own attire. "Actually, while I was cursed as Roni-"

"Roni?" Emma barks out an amused laugh. "We never really discussed your cursed persona. Please tell me _all_ about this Roni who has finally broke down your conservative walls and persuaded you to wear jeans," she muses, crawling back onto the bed with a satisfied smirk.

I roll my eyes, folding my clothes and placing them neatly on the nightstand on my side of the bed. "As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," I playfully scold, climbing onto the mattress, beneath the comforter that Emma is so politely holding up for me to sink under. "While I was Roni, I had this crazy urge to watch one episode of SVU a night when I would get off work, before bed."

"So, your mind subconsciously missed our binge nights?" Emma cockily replies, slithering down onto her pillow and turning to face me.

I mirror her action, resting my cheek against my hand upon her pillow. "Or my mind subconsciously missed Olivia Benson," I retort. "Once I was awaken, I had a hard time finding the courage to continue watching."

"How far did you get?"

"Season five."

"Good season, who am I kidding they're all good," she chuckles lightly, creating a loving smile to slip across my face as well. "So, tell me about the curse."

"That's a long story, Henry told you most of it, didn't he?"

"He did, but he neglected to inform me of this Roni woman."

"Hmmm, it seems my son knows what's best for him."

Emma smiles from ear to ear and I can just see how genuinely happy she is in this moment. All too quickly her leg is scooting beneath the covers and slithering in between mine. I raise one eyebrow at the woman, silently expressing that I am aware of her bold move, but she just continues smiling as though this is all too normal again.

"So, I heard through the grapevine that you owned a bar," she prompts, eager to hear more about my life in Seattle.

"Yes," I swallow thickly as a certain memory crawls to the forefront of my mind. "Yes, I was. Roni was...well, a bit rough around the edges, always dressing in jeans and concert tees. She enjoyed her shots and loud eighties rock music."

"Ugh, I'm so disappointed that I missed out on all of that. I bet Roni and I would've gotten along very well," she suggestively insinuates as her leg slowly grazes in between mine once again.

"Maybe," I shrug noncommittally before we both fall into a peaceful silence for a brief moment.

I'm all too aware of those enticing green eyes shifting all around my face and studying every detail like she's never been this close before. Or maybe it's because she missed me too damn much and she forgot how special these intimate moments were between us. It's almost too deep, too personal and I feel a heat of self- consciousness burn just below my flesh.

"I-I'm so sorry that I wasn't there during the curse. I know you guys went through a lot, with loosing Rumple and Belle and just everything you had to go through with Wish Henry...I just, I'm so sorry. I should've been there," she sadly confesses as her irises glisten with guilt.

"I know, but it wouldn't have been right for you to stay while pregnant. You needed to be safe and we were never safe during those times."

"I missed you so much, Regina. I thought about you every day and pleaded for you to just come back. I just wasn't the same without you, I felt like a huge piece of me was missing."

"Emma," I swallow down my fears knowing I need to be honest with her if we want to continue down this path toward our future. Her thin eyebrows pinch together and I know she's nervous for what might spew from my mouth. "I need to be honest with you."

"O-okay..." she whispers and even though she's trying to be subtle, I still notice the way her teeth are biting into the delicate flesh behind her bottom lip.

"I was trying very hard to move on from you. Just after Lucy was born, someone from my past showed up and quickly became a distraction."

"Alright...who?"

"Dr. Facilier," I nervously answer.

Emma's long lashes blink a few times as she rummages the Disney library in her mind to recall the person. "The creepy guy who turned the prince into a frog?"

"You always have such a way with describing our world of people," I flatly reply.

"Whatever," she grumbles while rolling her eyes in annoyance. "So, how did you know him in your past? What happened this time around?" She inquires with bitterness tightly wound around each one of her words and even though it maybe wrong, my heart beats a little faster, loving how jealous she is right now.

"When I was the Evil Queen, he would pop in from time to time. He was more of a fling whenever we showed up and we had a...peculiar relationship."

"What do you mean by peculiar?" She hastily chimes in, the frown deepening around her pouty lips that have me wetting mine from their desire.

"I rather not share my relationship history of that time in my life. Darkness swarmed through my veins at the time and it seemed to latch onto the darkest of souls, craving a lust that was impossible to quench."

"I don't understand."

"No, you wouldn't. You never had that type of darkness fill you."

"I was The Dark One, Regina," she flatly replies.

"Yes, but you never allowed that darkness to take control, to consume every fiber of your being." She narrows her eyes and I can see the confusion trying so desperately to work out all the kinks in her mind. "Anyways, the lust with Dr. Facilier was more of an addiction from the darkness and I easily surrendered after Lucy was born."

"So, you were in another relationship while you were gone," she states without any true emotion and I know she's building up her walls again to protect her heart from the nasty truth.

"Not a relationship, not really. It was more of..." the words die cold on my tongue because I cannot find the strength to admit that I was intimate with another person while she was stuck here in Storybrooke, crying for me to come home while carrying my child.

"A booty call? Friends with benefits? What, Regina?" She snaps, even though she's keeping her voice down for our baby, there's still a sharp bite that stings my heart from the hurt in her tone.

"I don't know what to label it as, but I did sleep with him and I think I owe you the truth," I honestly answer even though my heart actually hurts in my chest right now, like someone is squeezing the life right out of the damn organ.

She inhales sharply through her nose as her eyes flutter closed and she allows the words to sink in. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," she firmly demands, even with her eyes closed.

"What? Emma, I think we should discuss-"

"No, Regina. It's in the past and we weren't even together and I'm sure you thought I was with Hook at the time. There's nothing I can do about it now and there's no point on dwelling on that and causing more issues between us. It is what it is and it's over. Right?"

"Yes, he's dead," I boldly inform her just to help ease her worry that this man might be somewhere in one of our United Realms. "Even if he wasn't though, it wouldn't matter. You know how I feel about you."

"I know," she whispers as I lean forward and place a delicate kiss to her lips to confirm my affection toward her. "Okay, please let's move on."

"Let's."

"I know what will brighten up this sudden mood change." A small smile curls at the corner of her mouth before she stretches behind her toward the nightstand to retrieve her phone. "How about some of those videos I promised you?"

"Yes," I sigh in relief, adorning the way her entire face just lit up in pure joy.

Emma scoots back into her previous position and displays the screen directly between us as her fingers scroll through the obscene amount of photos and videos of our baby girl. She did mention that she may have overcompensated because she doesn't have any of her own childhood photographs and because she missed out on Henry's childhood as well.

"Ah, here," her finger stops on a video of a nurse holding a screaming newborn. "Her first bath and let me tell you, she was not a fan," she muses as she clicks on the video and Hope's screeching infant cries fill the small space between us.

"She was so tiny," I whisper as my finger moves to its own accord, itching to touch the screen of my newborn.

"She was. She was two weeks early, but still, she was only six pounds, seven ounces. She quickly gained weight though," she smiles proudly as we watch the nurse gently wipe away all the muck clinging to her delicate skin.

"Trust me, I know. She was so chunky the first time I met her."

"Regina, she's still chunky," Emma laughs and I can feel her eyes against the side of my face, but I am far too enthralled with the scene playing out in front of me.

"She's perfect," I hum.

"She is," Emma wholeheartedly agrees as the video ends and she slowly scrolls through more photos. "You've seen all these in the album," she mindlessly comments as she searches for the next video. "Oh, here, this is the first time I was able to get her to smile."

Emma starts the video, her delicate angelic voice swooping from the speakers as she calls out to our daughter in a baby tone. Hope is laying down on the couch, squirming and jerking as Emma's index finger comes into view and softly glides down our daughter's jawline. My eyes immediately fill with tears, blurring my vision as Hope smiles up at Emma with so much adoration.

"I hate that I missed all of this," I croak out and of course my voice cracks from the emotions clawing their way up my throat.

"I know," she sadly agrees as her lips press into my temple and linger. "But you are here now and she loves you so much." I swallow down my tears and allow her warm breath to soothe my guilt. "We both do," she confesses, inspiring my head to tilt up to meet her loving gaze.

I lean forward, capturing those tender lips into a slow sensual kiss that hopefully divulges in all my little secrets of how I truly feel about her. Neither one of us push for more, relishing in the gentle way our lips glide against one another's, molding together as one and creating the delicious snapping sound as we part.

"Tell me more," I whisper against her lips as we both wiggle just a little closer into each other's warmth.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"Everything, huh?" She muses from my vague response as her hand firmly cups my hip bone, squeezing playfully. "Well, let's see, it was a Friday afternoon on March sixteenth and I was miserable and uncontrollable and annoying my dad with all my whining." I hum in response and watch as her eyes sparkle and dance from the fond memory skittering across her mind. "My mom was at work and so was my dad, but I was already on maternity leave and bored so I was sitting at the station with him and Hook and that's when my water broke."

"Oh your poor father."

"Right? But he didn't even flinch. He stood up, grabbed our coats and rushed me to the door with Hook trailing behind before I could even comprehend what was about to happen."

"Sounds like your father," I sigh, feeling some sort of comfort knowing that Emma was in fact taken care of.

"So, he called my mom and she met us there. She was amazing, so calm, so attentive and she kept talking to me to keep me distracted."

"How long were you in labor for?"

"Not long," she breathes out a small laugh through her nose while my hand moves on instinct to slip beneath her tank top. My fingers lightly trailing across the flesh that once carried my baby girl. "Forty-five minutes later, Hope Swan was born, eager to meet this world."

"Hope Snow," I correct her with a bit of distaste, but we both know I don't truly mean it.

"Yup," Emma snuggles in a little closer, our noses just barely kissing as she gazes into my eyes. "I've been meaning to talk to you about all of that. I was thinking that we could change her name."

"Why would we do that?"

"Well, now that you are here and we have the test results, I was thinking of filing for a new birth certificate. I would like you to sign it and I was thinking, if it's alright with you, if we could use both our last names."

"Seriously?"

"Uh, yeah," she replies even though her face is contorting into painfully confused.

"What did you have in mind?" I blurt out and examine the way her bewilderment morphs into a giddy grin.

"Hope Snow Swan-Mills."

"Really?"

"Yes, why is this so hard for you to believe?"

I don't even bother responding, instead I lunge forward and express my gratitude through a forceful kiss that steals the last breath from her lungs. Her grip tightens upon my hip as she allows my mouth to repay her for the sweet gesture.

"Thank you," I breathe into her mouth, provoking an adorable smile to break out against my lips.

"So, is that a yes?" She teases before I capture her lips again to silence that pretty little mouth of hers.

"Oh shut up."

"Never," she laughs into our kiss as she jerks my hips closer against her body, increasing the heat pulsating between us.

XXXXXXXXX 

After we spend a little time becoming reacquainted with each other's lips and tongue, finding that perfect dance that was all too familiar, Emma turned on Netflix like she offered to begin with. However, our bodies could not stand any type of distance after the excruciating time we spent apart. Emma propped up the pillows against the headboard, my temple resting peacefully against her shoulder as we paid close attention to the crime show. Her fingertips danced across my arm in the most glorious way while my hand found its way back to her stomach, my fingers memorizing every muscle, every freckle subconsciously.

After the first episode ended, my eyelids were beginning to droop from the trying day, but then her whispers sweep through my locks and snap me back to the now.

"Regina, can we try again?" Her voice rattles and quakes recklessly, terrified of the answer to follow.

I sigh and take a moment to watch my fingers move beneath her shirt. This woman came crashing into my life so many years ago, flicking on the light in my life that I was so hopelessly in search for. I fell hard and fast for this corky, overly confident woman and it petrified me because I knew love was weakness and even to this very day, her love terrifies me. Yet, none of that matters, because I have my daughter and I have her and everything in this world simply washes away. I could spend the rest of my days worrying what could come between us, what next natural disaster will tear us apart or I could spend each day in the moment, loving this family that Emma and I created with Henry and Hope.

"Regina?" She anxiously questions, her fingers stilling against my arm as she so very clearly holds her breath.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

"Take it," I urge, waving the check like a feather drifting through the air between us.

"No, Emma already paid me for this week. She said she's tired of you constantly paying for daycare," Ashley shrugs off the gesture, busying herself with cleaning up the chaos of toys scattered across her floor like mines filling a field.

"Well, then take this for next week," I demand, determined not give up so easily.

"Ugh, can't you two figure something out and stop putting me in the middle. It's so awkward," she grumbles, even though she rips the check from my hand and shoves it into her back pocket while I smirk in triumph.

"Maybe one day," I flippantly reply and place a gentle kiss to my daughter's temple.

"So, tonight is Hope's first night at your house, correct?"

"It is," I carefully reply, unsure where this conversation is leading.

"She'll be just fine," she smiles, placing her hand for comfort behind Hope's head. "She knows that you're there and that's the most important thing."

"Well...thank you," I reply politely before Hope and I slip out the door and head back to the mansion for her first night.

XXXXXXXXX 

The cheerful music of The Beatles sweeps through the kitchen as Hope bounces in her highchair and I prepare my special sauce for pasta. My daughter babbles energetically in what I assume is her version of singing that always produces the giddiest smile to paint across my face.

I stir my sauce, before checking the firmness of the noodles. When I note the perfect tenderness, I switch off the stove and remove another noodle, carefully blowing to cool it down before I cut it up and place it onto Hope's plate. She jumps eagerly for a bite as I place it down before her and brush my fingers through her hair.

"Is that good baby girl?" I coo as I drain my noodles.

"Regina? Hope?"

A devilish smirk slips into place at her cheerful voice swimming through my home. "Mommy's here," I whisper, but Hope is far too invested in the plain noodle in front of her to care what I am saying. "Just like your mother, food first," I tease, listening to the heavy boots trampling through my home.

"Hey," she shyly greets me while I set down the pot back onto the stove.

"Hi," I murmur, closing the distance between us and delicately brushing my lips against hers before attending our dinner once again.

Monday night while Emma and I were cuddled up, she had asked if we could try again and after everything we've been through and the beautiful baby we created out of our pure love, I just couldn't say no. We decided to take things slow which entails family dinners, outings and eventually date nights for us as well. However, I'm not exactly sure how slow we will be able to go. We moved very slowly the first time we began our relationship and now watching her with Hope, well it just does unexplainable things to my needy body.

"Hi, baby," she coos, greeting our daughter with a quick peck on top of her head. "How is she? She was kind of sluggish yesterday and this morning," she informs me as she strolls across the kitchen to retrieve plates and silverware for our meal, provoking a small tug at the corner of my mouth.

"She's been quiet, but she's been eating well. She danced a little bit when the music started."

"Do you think she's getting better?" She timidly questions as she places the dishes by the stove for me to fill.

"I do, she hasn't had a fever since Monday night and she has kept everything down since Sunday night. Her little body is just trying to recoup now, she needs lots of rest."

"Early bedtime," Emma teases, narrowing her eyes at our daughter, but Hope just bats those thick long lashes and stares back at Emma with a fierce confidence that a nine month old should not possess. "Don't look at me like that, besides momma is putting you to bed tonight. You have an issue, take it up with her," she sasses while Hope continues to stare her down, silently challenging her. "She is all you," Emma whispers in my ear as she accepts the plate I just filled for our daughter.

"I don't know," I sing song, "I believe all the stubbornness is you."

Emma simply hums in response, cutting up the noodles for our daughter and placing the plastic plate down in front of her. "So, she really liked the noodles?"

"There hasn't been a thing since the peas incident that this little girl doesn't like," I state with conviction, handing Emma her plate and then working on mine.

"Good, I'm glad she's not picky."

"Again dear, she's _your_ child," I mock, sweeping right passed the proud sheriff and claiming my seat next to Hope's highchair.

Emma slides into the chair on the other side of Hope's chair and immediately dives right into her dinner. I sit back a moment, studying the way Hope and Emma eat and the resemblance is uncanny, from their mannerisms to the satisfied smirk ghosting their lips with each and every bite.

"What?" Emma mumbles around her mouthful, her hand automatically flying to her mouth to ensure nothing tumbles out.

"Nothing," I smirk, averting my gaze and finally starting with my own dinner.

She hums skeptically, but chooses not to mutter anything else. There's a moment of silence as we all just enjoy our meal and tranquility with the company surrounding this table.

"Hope, take a sip of water," I instruct, handing over her sippy cup and interrupting her scarfing down the noddles with barely a breath in between.

She quickly scoops up her cup and drinks like she's been lost in a desert, starving for a sip to quench her thirst. I shake my head as Emma and I both chuckle under our breaths and watch as Hope dives right back into her dinner.

"I'm gonna miss you tonight, you goof," Emma laughs, her hand automatically caressing Hope's head.

I gently set down my fork and wipe my mouth before turning my attention toward the pitiful pout across the table. "Emma."

"Yeah?" Those stunning eyes flick toward my gaze.

"If you would like, you are more than welcome to stay tonight."

"Oh no no, Hope's going to be just fine with you."

"I know that, but I wasn't offering for Hope, I was offering for you."

She blinks and blinks again obviously puzzled by the notion. Her brows scrunch together as she examines my face, maybe searching for uncertainty in my suggestion, but she won't find anything. I genuinely would like her to stay because I understand how hard it is to be separated from your child, especially at such a young age like our daughter.

"Regina, I'm a big girl, I'll be just fine."

"Emma, I know how hard it is to be away from your child and I know it's the first night and I would like to make the transition easy on both of you."

She doesn't respond at first. She takes a moment to gaze upon our daughter, a small smile that's partially a frown forming around her mouth. She sighs heavily as her eyes trail nervously back to mine.

"Thank you," she whispers as if she's terrified of her own voice.

"No need to thank me," I shrug, redirecting my focus back onto my dinner.

"You know," she stretches out the small phrase and I know her well enough to know she's attempting to lighten the mood. "If you want me to sleep in your bed, you just have to ask. You don't need to use our daughter as an excuse," she muses with that cocky grin sliding easily into place.

"Don't make me take the offer off the table," I coldly scold, but she belts out my favorite laugh that inspires my heart to produce wings and flutter away.

XXXXXXXXX 

I gently rock Hope upon my lap as I carefully close her bedtime story, but this little girl is spunky tonight. She hastily fights against my hands and pries open the book, slamming her palms roughly down to help convince me that I need to keep reading.

"Sorry Hope, all done. One story before bed," I strictly command, provoking her pudgy hands to slam against the cover, like maybe I'm not understanding her request. "All done," I state again, carefully vacating the chair and placing her book onto her dresser.

Of course this stubborn little baby whimpers her protest, but I know I cannot break her nightly routine. I will not be the mother she walks all over. Those inquisitive brown orbs flick to mine, glaring at me as she slowly bats her eyelashes and I know she's trying to convey her disappointment.

"I know baby girl," I chuckle and press a small kiss to her forehead. "But it's bedtime."

The two nights I spent this week at Emma's house when Hope was sick, I noticed the Savior repeating the same few sentences every time she laid our daughter down to sleep in her crib. So, I assume it must be comforting for Hope to hear the same mantra.

"Night, night Hope. I love you and I'll see you when you wake up," I softly whisper as I place another kiss to her cheek and gently lay her down.

Instantly, Hope's eyelids grow heavy, so I offer her favorite pacifier and watch as she quickly accepts the calming butterfly. I delicately sweep her hair away from her face and smile down upon my beautiful baby. Those mesmerizing eyes stare up at me before I slowly creep out of her room. I make sure the door is halfway open, just like Emma always does and then proceed to my bedroom.

I softly close the door behind me and smile at the blonde sitting with her legs crisscrossed on my bed like a kindergartener while she peers down at her phone. Her head quickly snaps into my direction, creating a loving smile on her face when she notices my presence.

"Hey, how did it go?" She murmurs.

"Good, she hasn't made a sound," I comment, drifting across my room to gather my pajamas for this evening. "Did you find something to wear?" I question, even though I notice she has yet to change.

"I didn't want to go through your drawers."

"Really? You never had an issue before," I tease as I rummage through my drawers for something accommodating for her.

"I know, but...I don't know," she shrugs, blatantly uncomfortable with being interrogated and redirects her attention to her phone.

"Well don't be shy," I order with conviction and toss a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt at her face.

Emma breathes out a small laugh through her nose, removing the clothing from her head. She pulls the blue shirt toward her lap and then pauses. She hastily flips the shirt around and smirks while I watch with great interest.

"Dodgers, huh?" She muses, her concentration heavily on the print before her. "Never pegged you for a baseball fan."

"Never was, but I dated this woman one time and her and my son insisted that I indulge in the moment," I flippantly reply, sashaying right passed her to my side of the bed to change.

"Hmmm, this woman sounds like a great catch. You should've never let her go."

I hum playfully as if I maybe lost in thought while I shimmy out of my skirt with extra flare to catch this woman's full attention. "She was a bit cocky," I shrug noncommittally, absolutely loving how I tease her.

However, I am taken by surprise when this woman leans across the bed, gripping my bare hips and tosses me onto the mattress, generating a shocked yelp to escape my lips without my permission.

"You think you are so funny, don't you?" She taunts, scrambling to climb on top of me and hold me into place with her entire body heavily pressing on top of mine.

"I'm just stating facts here," I flippantly reply as she gathers up my hands and secures them against the mattress, but I remain calm and flash her my most unimpressed expression.

Emma smiles wildly as she bends down to capture my lips in a kiss that steals my breath away and sends my heart fluttering faster than Cupid's wings. I smile into the kiss, my body writhing beneath her warmth that settles into my skin and sparks every nerve to stand to attention. All too quickly and much to my dismay, this teasing woman jerks back, leaving my needy lips to chase after hers.

"It's too bad you know," she slowly draws out her words in that condescending and taunting tone while I simply heave for my next breath and tilt my head to the side. "If I do recall you said you would never sleep with me again?" She grinds her hips against mine in the most ridiculously tantalizingly slow pace. "In front of Blue, might I add." I groan in response that persuades her into stilling all her glorious movements. "Am I right?"

"Shut up," I growl, easily flipping her onto her back and reclaiming her mouth with enough force that I know she will be rendered speechless.

Emma enthusiastically grips my hips, her short nails digging deliciously into my skin and sending a wave of arousal to flood through my veins like a damn tsunami. She squeezes, roughly, guiding my almost bare hips to move more firmly against her jeans. A deep, animalistic moan breaks from her chest and tumbles into my mouth causing my head to spin faster than any cheap carnival ride.

The passion and all the pent up tension that has been harbored and buried away for far too many years comes pouring out of us. We've waited for what feels like a lifetime to be in each other's arms again and now there's no stopping the itch that's been torturing our souls since the day we parted. I become frantic, lost in the endless ocean of unfiltered passion that needs to be calmed from the storm we have created between us over the past few months.

Emma eagerly snatches up the hem of my shirt, tearing the material up my over heated body and over my head to break our frenzied kiss, but only for a moment. We are both teeth and tongues as we capture one another's mouths again, needing whatever the other person has to offer in this moment. Her nails press firmly into my back, raking down my flesh before she locates the clasp of my bra and hastily removes it. She proceeds to tear away my bra with vigor as if this scrap of material has offended her in someway by keeping my chest hidden from her greedy eyes.

Abruptly, I break apart our kiss and sit upright, tugging her up along with me so I can rip her shirt off as well. A salacious smirk slides into place as she peers up at me with such lust throbbing from her body that I swear I can feel her erratic heart beating along with our heavy gasps for breath. Her long fingers glide up my cheeks and through my hair to pull my face against hers so she can take my mouth again all while I quickly remove her bra as well.

There's something swirling in the air around us and it isn't long before I figure out that it's her childlike giddiness that's making this moment even better. We are like two lovesick teenagers, desperately craving sex like we've just had our first taste and can't seem to get enough. And I swear I'm falling in love with her all over again.

Emma jerks my face down, forcing our bodies to collide and tumble right back down into the mattress. Without a moment of hesitation, I slither down her body and fumble for the button on her jeans, jerking the zipper down along the way before I shred the denim clinging to her thick thighs. After I toss her jeans to the floor, I take a calming breath and move at a much slower pace as I curl my fingers into her flimsy red laced thong. I peel away the material like I'm unwrapping a present I know that I will enjoy, needing to savor the moment.

She gulps loudly into the silence as she watches me slide the fabric down her silky thighs and fling them somewhere behind me. Gradually, I lower myself between her legs, ghosting over her abdomen that's quivering in anticipation. Ever so delicately, I brush my lips against her stomach and sigh because again I am reminded what used to be inside and what I missed out on. She knows my emotions all too well and lovingly runs her fingers through my hair.

"Uh, Regina," she timidly whispers as my eyes flick to hers, but my mouth never leaves her delicious skin. "Hope's barely ten months, I-..." and I know before she even breathes out her next words what's haunting her thoughts. "I'm really not ready to have another baby just yet."

"Then don't think about loving me," I whisper as my lips trail down below her navel causing her to squirm in delight. "Just think about fucking me and nothing else."

"I-that's the hottest thing you've ever said." My eyes intently observe the way her hand curls into the pillow behind her head and her back arches in the most provocative way and a whole new meaning of wetness soaks my thong. "I don't think that's how this works though."

"I have no idea how this works," I mutter, redirecting my attention to her bare sex that's glistening just for me. "Maybe if I just use my tongue and never enter you that will be the key," I whisper before dragging my tongue up her slick folds and moaning at her taste that I've been deprived from.

"That's...I don't...Uh..." she grumbles incoherently, prompting my actions to desist immediately.

"Do you want to stop?" I sincerely question because I would never want to force this upon her when she's so unsure about another magical surprise.

"God no, Regina," she scoffs, lifting her bottom off the mattress and wordlessly demanding my tongue once again.

"Are you sure? If something-"

"Well then we raise another baby together," she flippantly replies and impatiently treads her fingers through my hair and encourages my head to resume its position.

I can't even deny the small chuckle that slips passed my lips before I teasingly brush my nose through her wet folds, purposely bumping into her aching bundle of nerves. She groans, like she forgot how good we are together, inspiring my tongue to go to work, lapping up her thick arousal that is always just for me.

I grip her hips, holding her into place as my tongue works over her clit, starving for those heavenly sounds I know are sure to follow. She mumbles my name with a few choice curse words while I flip between swirling and sucking and driving her absolutely mad. Her grip tightens in my hair, pleading with me to just bury myself in deeper, but I'm as close as humanly possibly. Her hips become wild, searching for a perfect rhythm while I ravish every piece of her, so thankful that she is all mine once again.

"Fuck," she heaves, as though the word was fighting through her hoarse throat to sneak passed her lips and I moan right against her soaked center.

And that right there is the key that stiffens her hips, midair, and has her screaming through her orgasm like nothing I've ever heard come from this woman before. I smirk to nobody but myself as her body flops recklessly back into the mattress. Lovingly, I paint her skin with wet kisses, mixed with her essence and my own taste as I travel up her heaving stomach and chest.

The second my face is close to hers, she grips my head with both hands and slams her lips against mine in what I can only assume is a wordless, thank you. She moans hotly into my mouth which forces another smile onto my face.

"I love you," she murmurs into the kiss, persuading a laugh to erupt from my mouth.

"Don't say that! You're gonna get yourself pregnant," I scold while she just laughs uncontrollably like a little school girl.

"I didn't feel magic this time," she replies and honestly I feel like maybe there's a hint of sadness behind her admission.

"No, I didn't either."

"We need to do more research."

"I agree," I concede, gently brushing my lips against her pretty pink ones all over again.

"But for now..." she muses, before hastily tipping me over onto my back and worming her way on top again. "You can't get pregnant so I shall have my way with you," she taunts before connecting our lips again and sliding her hand between our slick bodies.

My breath catches in my throat as her tender fingers skim down my ribs and it's by far the most intimate that anyone has ever touched me before. I shudder from the feeling and that's the moment I know I can never ever lose this woman again. She is my everything and nobody will ever love me the way Emma Swan does.

"Emma," she stops instantly from the wobble evidently in my throat, her eyes nervously flicking all around my face like maybe the words are written for her to read. "I do love you," I whisper, producing the most adorable grin to deepen in her cheeks.

"Don't, you're going to get yourself pregnant," she teases, causing both of us to laugh before the humor is evaporated from the room and leaving nothing in it's awake, except our passion.

This beautiful creature takes her time strategically placing kiss after loving kiss in a path down my neck and across my chest. She's memorizing, divulging in the moment of our bodies finally connecting together again as one. The brush of her lips are sensual, expressing how much she is in love with all of me and it's leaving my body a trembling mess, like I'm waiting on pins and needles for her next calculated move.

Those long golden tresses tickle my sensitive flesh as she travels down to my abdomen, inspiring little goosebumps to erupt in her awake. My eye are glued to the top of her head, admiring the way her hair sways elegantly down my body as she worships every inch of skin. The anticipation of what's to come is overwhelming and has me panting and sighing for so much more.

Those silky lips glide just below my navel as her fingers curl into the thin black string decorating my hips, slowly sliding them down my thighs while her mouth never leaves my skin. My eyes flutter closed from the intimacy throbbing between like a pulse after an extreme workout. My fingers comb through her unruly waves, scooping up the mess and neatly placing the strands down the middle of her back so I can truly admire her gorgeous face.

She hesitates, her warm breath coating my exposed center that's aching for her attention. Suddenly, I'm all too aware that she has never crossed these lines with another woman before. The one and only time we ever slept together, I did most of the work.

"Em, if you-" that's as far as my sentence gets because her head dips down and her tongue tentatively sweeps up my awaiting slit, instantly producing a strangled moan to stir within my chest.

"It's time for you to be quiet, Madam Mayor," she taunts, delivering an icy cold package of chills to trickle down my spine like rain against a windowpane.

I shudder from the mix of emotions and that nickname that always did far too much than I care to admit. I inhale sharply as her warm velvety tongue swipes up my length again and she moans involuntarily against my most intimate area. Her fingers glide up my thighs, pressing firmly into my flesh before she grips my hips and holds on for dear life.

I'm lost in a trance, cherishing every move this woman makes, from the way her head bobs to the enticing sight of her fingers digging into my skin and oh how I wish she'd mark me. The captivating picture she's creating in front of me is almost too distracting to surrender to the pleasure. It's a must to memorize every detail of this moment before I fully succumb to her spell.

However, all my thoughts fly out the window the second she slithers one of her long fingers into my quivering hole. My back arches instantly as a rich moan escapes my lips. My finger react instantaneously, scraping against her scalp as I hold her into place. The tip of her tongue presses, with one goal set in mind, against my throbbing bundle of nerves while she adds another finger, pumping with determination. My body reacts purely on instinct, rolling like a ripple in a pond off the mattress and desiring so much more.

The heavy moans and sighs filling the air are all the more hypnotizing, mixing as one and I'm not even sure who the sounds belong to anymore. My hips become frantic, grinding and searching for the release that's just dangling in my grasp. That familiar pressure coils deep in my lower abdomen and soon I'm cursing and writhing uncontrollably.

"Em-em-Emma," I breathlessly moan as she curls her fingers and strokes my sweet spot deep inside while her tongue works over my needy bud.

My head spins as my climax crashes down on me and I release all over this captivating woman. Emma doesn't even skip a beat, she's right there, licking up the mess she created with a dopey grin plastered across her face.

My fingers slither away from her head so I can press my fists to my eyes and calm my body back down. Emma's soaked lips paint kisses all over my body until she is ghosting over my lips. I slowly pry open my eyes to discover the most stunning green eyes dancing before me.

"That was by far the sexiest thing I have ever seen," she confesses before she connects our lips in a slow meaningful kiss. "You ready for another round?"

"Oh Miss Swan, you have no idea," I tease, wrapping my legs around her waist and flipping her with ease.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

"Regina, Hope! I'm home," Emma calls through the mansion persuading a suspicious smirk to tug at the corner of my mouth from her bold declaration.

I quickly scoop up Hope and greet Emma at the door just as she is slipping off her snowy boots. "Home, huh?" I lean forward and press a kiss to her cheek while our daughter bounces in my arms babbling on and on about, ma, ma.

"It kinda slipped out," she sheepishly replies, her cheeks flaring up an even brighter red than the bitter winter has already painted across them.

"It's fine," I wave her off as she steals Hope from my arms and sloppily kisses our daughter's cheek. I invade her space a little more, my warm breath tickling just below her ear. "I actually like the sound of that," I seductively whisper causing this startled woman to whip around in my direction.

"Seriously?" She incredulously questions, those glossy green eyes searching frantically across my face for an explanation.

"You know I love having you and Hope here," I admit, strutting back into the living room to finish with my task, the sheriff following closely behind like a guard dog. "These passed two weeks have been wonderful."

"I know, we love being here as well and we love when you come by our house too," she stops dead in her tracks as her eyes take in the twinkling gold lights and the immense amount of red draping every inch of the room. "Jeez Regina, it looks like the Christmas aisle in Macy's threw up all over this room."

"Is it bad?" I nervously inquire as my insecurities crawl up my back and prickle against my neck while my eyes search for where I went wrong.

"No, it's absolutely stunning," she gasps as her eyes roam over every detail. "It's like a professional came in here to decorate."

"Well, it's the first time, ever, that I'm hosting something in the mansion and I wanted it to be perfect," I truthfully reply, still anxiously twisting my fingers together as I myself scan the room yet again.

"It's beautiful," she places a sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth, melting away my worries in an instant. "Everyone is going to love this."

"I hope so. Everyone should be arriving around five o'clock tomorrow," I mindlessly ramble as I fix a crooked bow on the Christmas tree and I pretend not to notice Emma's skeptical eye on the side of my face.

"I know," her cool hand rests upon mine fiddling with the bow to desist my actions. "Are you nervous about everyone finding out about us?"

I sigh heavily and slowly release the satin fabric, avoiding my girlfriend's eyes like the plague. "A little," I quietly confess because I don't want to make her anxious about the situation as well, it would be nice if one of us was level headed walking into this.

"I swear there's nothing to worry about. Everyone is going to be so happy that we are together and working on rebuilding our family with Hope. We have a child together, being a couple will not offend anyone," she laughs which encourages our daughter to giggle as well.

I smile instantly from that adorable sound and tickle her tummy just to continue the sweet sound. "She sounds just like you when she laughs."

"You think?" Emma smiles from ear to ear and examines our baby like it's the first time she's seeing her.

"I do," I softly conclude, running my fingers through Hope's ever growing hair and wrapping my finger around one of her bouncing baby curls.

"So, are we sleeping here tonight? Or at my place?" Emma inquires, hoisting Hope further up on her hip because I swear our daughter gains at least an extra few pounds a day since she started eating my cooking.

"We can stay here, most of the presents are here, right?"

"True," she hums as her eyes roam over the pile of beautifully wrapped presents beneath the tree. "I think we went overboard."

"I think she's our little princess and she deserves the world," I proudly profess as I steal her away from Emma's embrace.

"I need to change, but then we need to get going. My mom even made sure to have my dad drop by the station to remind me what time dinner is at tonight."

"Well go on, Hope and I are all set and I have her bagged pack."

"Where's her Christmas Eve dress?" Emma investigates, tilting her head to the side as she inspects our daughter's plain red onesie.

"I was waiting until right before we left so she doesn't drool all over it...which reminds me," I teasingly suggest as I snatch up Emma's index finger, taking her by surprise.

Emma's eyes blow wide as I drag her finger closer to our daughter's contagious grin. Slowly I wedge her fingertips inside of Hope's mouth and watch with great amusement as Emma's entire face lights up like a bright headlight guiding the way through a gloomy night.

"Her first tooth," she exhales through a small chuckle while I nod along. "Oh my god, it's so sharp," she giggles just as Hope laughs along and chomps down. "Hope!"

I really try to hold back my snickering, but it's futile, so I turn my head so Hope doesn't think biting is a game that makes her mothers laugh.

"Hope," I gently say once I control myself, "no biting. That's not nice." Those big brown eyes scrutinize my expression through squinted lids which indefinitely persuades Emma and I both to laugh. My hand cups the back of her head to pull her closer to my lips. "You are going to be something else, aren't you?" I tease just before I place a kiss to her temple.

"We are so screwed with her," Emma muses before she turns on her heel, rushing up the stairs to change for our family Christmas Eve dinner at Snow's house.

XXXXXXXXX 

"This is just great mom, really. I'm so happy for you two. Hope is going to love having her moms under one roof," Henry enthuses as he tickles just below his sister's chin.

I decide it would be wise to divulge mine and Emma's secret to our son, before everyone else finds out. The poor boy has been rooting for Emma and I to work through our differences for awhile now and it's only right that he is the first to know.

"Henry, please, Emma and I are just starting out. We haven't even discussed moving in together," I reject his statement, but that doesn't wipe away the ever growing smirk embedding painfully into his cheeks.

"You will soon," he smugly replies. "I wish you and Emma could have figured this out decades ago. It would have been kind of cool to have you both in one household."

"Henry-"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you and Ma worked out your differences when I was younger and I was able to flip back and forth between the two of you without any issues. I'm just saying it would have been kind of nice to see you two happy."

"Wine?" Emma kindly offers as she stretches a deep mulberry liquid in front of my face and successfully interrupts the private moment between Henry and I.

"Thank you," I whisper, accepting the glass and standing up from my kneeling position in front of our children. "Do you have her? I should probably ask your mother if she needs assistance."

Emma leans just a little closer, too close for a _friendly_ encounter, kick starting my heart and forcing my eyes to scan the area to make sure nobody is watching us.

"Are you trying to butter up my mom before we announce our relationship?" She teases, but I simply roll my eyes and brush right passed her, persuading my favorite carefree laugh to escape her lips.

I bite down on the insides of my cheeks to keep my smirk at bay as I stroll casually into the rustic kitchen. Snow is just pulling out a marvelous over sized ham from the oven and setting it down on the stove.

"Hey."

"Oh, hi," she breathes, glancing over her shoulder and offering a small smile.

"Do you need help with anything?"

"Uhh," she drags out the word for as long as her lungs will allow as her eyes sweep the kitchen for an answer. "I believe all the food is prepared. You could always help me bring out the food to the dining room."

"Of course."

I gently set down my wine glass on the kitchen island and make my way over to the stove. I lightly touch the long glass dish to test the temperature before picking up the item.

"Here, you'll need this," Snow says as she hands over a towel to protect my hands.

"Thanks."

I'm not sure if this woman can sense my nervous energy, but I absolutely hate how uncertain I am around her. We've come so far in our relationship, but we never took a moment to discuss my relationship with her daughter, especially after everything we've been through. I know I owe it to her to be truthful, but it's so hard after everything we've been through.

I quickly scoop up the dish and dutifully rush off to the dining room. I carefully place the sweet potatoes down and head back to the kitchen, where Snow is digging through her drawers for something she needs. I quietly move around her, scolding my heart for beating so erratically in the moment.

"Ah," she hums to herself and holds up a very large carving knife like she is about to enter some battle in the Enchanted Forest. I slowly wet my lips and wonder how we are ever going to trudge through this awkward tension and how quickly she can end my life with that jagged blade. "So, are we going to talk about you seeing my daughter? Or are we just going to keep suffering in these awful moments?" She so boldly blurts out while she begins cutting through her ham, like she's actually bored with this topic of conversation. Yet, deep down I wonder if she's pretending that ham is me.

"Ah, Snow White finally found her bite again? No more lingering Mary Margret?" I sarcastically retort, just to delay this conversation a little more while I muster up something else to say.

"Ah, a sarcastic comment in return, someone's nervous," she replies without even skipping a beat and instead of admitting that she is right, I roll my eyes and focus on the dishes in front of me.

"This is unbearably uncomfortable," I mutter under my breath.

"It's...well it's a little out of the ordinary," she sheepishly concedes, prompting my eyes to narrow in her direction at the greatest understatement known to mankind. "Listen, I have never seen my daughter fight so hard in her life to protect another human being quite like you."

"Snow-"

"Just please let me get this out." I nod, snapping my mouth shut so the former princess may continue. She sets down her knife and finally turns to offer her undivided attention. "I will never forget when the first curse broke, when Emma found out that a mob was headed your way, she panicked, both her and Henry did. But when we arrived at your house, I just remember studying her face and seeing the sheer panic as she fought the crowd to get to you. And later that day after that soul sucker tried to kill you, she rushed across the station to help you up and I was dumbfounded actually, just watching in bewilderment as Emma so easily neglected all your past crimes just to ensure your safety. And not even an hour later, she pushed you out of the way from that demon again to save your life, putting herself in danger and falling through a portal."

I smile at the old memory, a time I was convinced that the feelings festering deep inside of me were just irritation for the annoying blonde, but were in fact feelings that I kept pushing down and bottling up.

"I know you were busy pretending not to catch a glimpse of Emma out of the corner of your eye while Emma was just as busy, pretending that she wasn't studying your face. All while I was examining you two with great interest. I have known for quite sometime that there was always something far more than the hate you two claimed and it ran even deeper than the friendship that you two built. You two have always shared a certain bond that was so precious and I wondered how long it would be before you two stubborn asses figured it out."

My mouth automatically pops open from the use of inappropriate language. "Did you just call us asses?" I inquire, completely perplexed by her choice of word.

"I did," she proudly nods and redirects her attention to our dinner once more. "Regina, I told you along time ago that you would find your happy ending, it took a lot longer than I initially expected," she chuckles to herself and shakes her head, "but I am so happy you found it."

"I-" I choke on my own words, because not one of them feels right against my tongue in this moment. Nothing I say at this point in time can truly express my true gratitude of her acceptance.

"Besides, you gave me my beautiful granddaughter, I can't really hate you after that," she muses with a smile that consumes her entire face, just like her daughter when she believes she's truly funny.

I swallow down all the emotions bubbling up in the back of my throat that are suffocating my words from ever leaking out. So, I offer a small smile which has Snow mirroring my image. Carefully, she places her hand upon my shoulder, her thumb sweeping for comfort.

"Let's enjoy our family Christmas," she suggests as she slowly pulls away, but I am quick to snatch up her hand, demanding her full attention.

"I want you to know that I will protect Emma and Hope with all my heart."

"I know, Regina. You always have," she sincerely states, her warm eyes filling with thick tears before we both drop the subject and proceed with our night before anyone catches our private moment.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful baby girl," I whisper as I sneak into Hope's room, my daughter already up and bouncing in her crib as she hangs onto the side.

Those big brown eyes are dancing with excitement as she smiles wildly behind her pacifier. Her dark lock are a mess, little curls flipping out near her temple and bouncing with each jump she achieves as I draw nearer.

"Ma. Ma." She babbles happily and melts my heart the very second from the warmth of love swooping through my veins.

I gently scoop her up and over the crib and press a sweet kiss to her cheek before settling her against my hip. I slowly pry the pacifier away from her mouth and place it in her crib before we stroll through the hallway and back into my bedroom. I creep inside, tip toeing through the dark room, shielded by the drapes and keeping the sunlight hidden from my girlfriend's sleepy eyes.

"Get mommy," I whisper into my daughter's ear as I carefully place her on top of Emma's curled up body.

"Ma. Ma." Hope happily cheers as she crawls up the frame cocooned beneath the mess of sheets and comforter.

A deep grumble stirs through the room, but there's a lazy smile ghosting over those pretty pink lips. Emma stretches very carefully, conscious of our baby on top of her body and wraps Hope into her loving arms.

"Good morning baby," she groggily greets Hope, stretching her lips to meet the tip of her button nose. Emma peeks around Hope's shoulder and stretches her lips even further for mine, convincing me to capture those lips that worshiped every inch of my body through the night. "Merry Christmas," she whispers into the intimate space between us before I reluctantly pull away.

I had this woman all night long, writhing and filling the air with the most provocative sounds that I declared to be my new favorite song. She spent just as much time guiding my body to climb the highest of heights and yet I am still craving her like the clean air I need to fill my lungs. How am I this addicted to her already?

"Merry Christmas, Emma."

Emma smirks and lifts the edge of the comforter, silently requesting my presence to slip inside. I smile back and there's just something about her endearing smile that seems to cloud my mind and force me to oblige to her every command. I slide right into the space radiating her morning heat and cuddle right into her side. Hope smiles down upon us, showing off her tiny tooth behind her bottom lip, instantly producing a chuckle from Emma and I.

"Look at that adorable tooth," Emma gushes as I rest my head upon her shoulder and her arm sneaks behind my back so her fingertips can wander to their own accord.

"She's getting so big," I sigh, running my fingers through her hair.

"It's going by too fast, I swear I just had her," she pouts, inspiring my head to tilt back to kiss that frown away.

Hope scoots a little closer nudging our faces with her forehead, reminding us that she is still here. We both laugh, our lips breaking apart as we eye our daughter with ever growing smiles. She grins right back, fully proud of herself and I am quickly reminded how much this baby resembles both Emma and I.

Emma runs her fingers through Hope's curls, really assessing our daughter's delicate features. "You know, growing up I never really had Christmases to look forward to. Sometimes, the foster parents would take us to some shelter where we could pick one gift from a huge pile, half the time they were gloves or hats for the winter."

Carefully, not to disrupt this important story, I wrap my arm protectively around both Hope and Emma and hold them impossibly close.

"I always hated Christmas, just another reminder of how lonely I truly was, but then I came to Storybrooke and it took me a long time to really enjoy the holiday and let all that crap from my past really go." She sighs, before tilting her head so she can meet my gaze and my heart stops instantly from the love shining through those stunning eyes. "This is what I want for the rest of my life, Christmas mornings curled up in bed with you and Hope. There is not one present this world has to offer that can ever top this."

My lips are drawn in, connecting to hers like a magnet. "I love you," I whisper against her lips as her eyes flutter closed and she memorizes this moment.

"I love you, too," she breathes out in relief and we spend the majority of the morning in bed, playing with our beautiful daughter before we even remember that there are presents downstairs waiting for Hope.

XXXXXXXXX 

Hope was overly excited for the first two presents she tore through, but after that she became rather bored and just wanted to play with all the boxes filling the living room. Emma and I exchanged gifts as well after we were done opening for our daughter. Emma surprised me with the most precious portrait of Hope sleeping on my chest from last month. I had no idea that she even captured this delicate moment, but she did and enlarged the photo and framed it for my wall. The sentiment quickly stirred my emotions and had me battling against my own tears, which in the end won and left me a blubbering mess.

I will never admit, but I had a rather hard time deciding on a gift for Emma. She's not exactly into fashion and truthfully she doesn't really care for jewelry unless they hold a very sentimental value that's close to her heart. So, one night I rummaged through her nightstand and found the old necklaces she used to wear religiously. I know her Swan necklace is very special to her because of Neal, so I placed that one back inside and stole the other silver necklace with the circular pendant attached. I had our children's names engraved on the back around the circle so they will always be close to her heart. I was actually surprised how quickly she broke down when her eyes swept across Henry Daniel and Hope Snow. The woman barreled into me like a linebacker, knocking me down and smothering me with a grateful kiss. She swore that she had never felt more important in a family before in her life, even with her parents she always felt a little like an outsider for some reason, but this necklace expressed just how important she truly is.

It was hard for us to find the motivation to break through our small family bubble, but eventually we had to because most of Storybrooke's population was to attend our Christmas party this evening.

XXXXXXXXX 

By six o'clock the mansion was in full swing, decorated in everything red and gold that even the walls were tinged with the cheerful colors. Holiday music was swarming through the chatter of fairytale residents who were all dressed in their Christmas best and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face even if I wanted to.

Finally, our world is at peace and everyone is enjoying our life without anything threatening our lives.

"Champagne for the hostess with the mostess," Emma cheekily declares with this shit eating grin splitting her face right in half.

My greedy eyes roam over the stunning green satin dress that is clinging to Emma's long torso for dear life. The vibrant color makes her eyes pop and reflects beautifully off the golden flecks sparkling in her eyes like the shiny ornaments hanging from our tree.

"Have I mentioned how breathtaking you look tonight," I lower my voice for only her ears, accepting my drink and allowing my eyes to linger where her chest is practically spilling over the top of her dress.

"I believe you did, but there was this miniature human screaming for our attention and ruining the moment," she laughs as her grinning lips enclose the gap between us and steal a small kiss. "Did I mention how drop dead gorgeous you look in that burgundy paint?"

"Paint?" I balk, my face contorting into painfully confused as I pull back from her face.

"You didn't paint this dress on?" She muses, eyeing my dress once more, provoking my hand to slightly shove her back.

"Oh stop, I could say the same for you," I mock, slowly sipping my beverage. "That dress is practically hanging on for dear life, terrified it might slip at any given moment of the night, exposing something that is for my eyes only," I coolly reply, which creates my favorite Emma laugh.

"God I love you," she breathes through her laugh and steals another kiss while my eyes scan the room to see if we are under any speculation.

"Has anyone slyly commented on our status?" I curiously inquire as she pulls the bubbling liquid between her thin lips.

She shakes her head and swallows quickly. "Not really. I mean Archie said he's happy for us, but I don't think anyone else has the guts to bring it up during a casual conversation."

"I see."

"Where's Hope?"

"With Alice and Robin in the other room. Shall we see how they are getting along?"

"Yes," she hastily agrees, already missing our baby girl.

Emma slips her cool fingers through mine and guides me through the crowded room. We quickly spot Alice sitting cross-legged about a foot in front of Hope. Robin is kneeling behind her cousin, carefully holding her into the standing position.

"Oh god, are they seeing if she can walk?" Emma shrieks as she charges forward, yanking my arm out in the process. "She's only nine months."

"Henry was ten months," I flippantly reply, trying so very hard not to spill my champagne.

"Come on you little stinker!" Alice playfully cheers with her hands motioning for our daughter to take a step forward.

"Uhh, girls...I don't think she's ready..." Emma nervously interjects, forcing Robin and Alice to both avert their attention from Hope and land in our direction.

"She's standing so well, all on her own," Robin softly defends, very slowly releasing Hope's sides and allowing my daughter to stand on her own.

My lips immediately curl into a giddy grin from the amount of pride beating in my heart. Robin's face lights up with such enthusiasm as she holds her hands on either side of Hope ready to catch her if she falls.

"Come on little one!" Alice cheers, waving her hands like a mad woman to encourage my baby into taking a step forward.

"She's so little though," Emma whines, hastily stumbling forward in her too high of heels toward our daughter.

"Let's see," I whisper, following my girlfriend's lead and standing in the middle of Alice and Robin.

Hope peeks up at Emma and I out of the corner of her eye. Those enchanting chocolatey orbs are practically glowing into a warm honey hue as she turns her attention back to Alice, who is still coaxing her into taking her first step. A smug smirk slowly slips into place before she lifts her right foot and slams it back down with determination.

"Oh my god," Emma breathes out, slightly panicking and leaning forward, ready to catch our baby if need be, but Robin is right behind her, focusing on only the little girl and nobody else.

"That's it Hope, move that diaper butt!" Alice continues, giggling like some school girl.

Hope steadies her balance and very carefully lifts her left leg, causing her to wobble just a little bit prompting all four of us women to lunge forward, ready for a fall. However, this outstanding little girl, sets down her foot and catches her balance again. Emma and I both release ragged breathes and watch as Hope continues with two more steps. All too quickly, our daughter leans a little too much to the right, ready to topple over, but her cousin is right there to catch her. Robin swoops her up with ease and peppers her chubby cheek with praising kisses.

"Oh my god, she walked!" Emma screeches as she dashes forward and steals Hope out of Robin's embrace.

"Oh baby girl we are so proud of you," I gush, kissing Hope's temple as Emma squeezes her tight.

"I told you," Alice smugly replies, "magic baby," she reiterates with such pride as Robin snakes her arm around her fiancé's waist, just beaming with such adoration for the wild child.

"I don't think that's why she walked," Emma laughs, "I think it's because she's an overachiever like her mother," she teases, narrowing her eyes in my direction.

"Damn straight," I proudly state, placing another kiss to my daughter's head.

"Emma! Regina!" The chippy voice startles our small knit group, demanding our full attention. "Is this your baby girl? She's so big now," Ariel swoons with her tall, dark and silent husband standing behind her. If memory serves me correctly, I stole the fish's voice, not her husband, yet I don't believe I have ever heard him utter a single word.

"Hey Ariel," Emma happily greets her, while I plaster on my political smile, because I know she still hates me deep down for how much I tortured her and I respect that, even if she tries her hardest to be so sweet. True princess through and through. "Oh my god, how far along are you?"

The mermaid beams with so much love as her hands protectively cover her ever growing stomach. "Six months and Eric and I could not be more thrilled," she squeals, her body buzzing with so much glee.

"Congratulations," I politely reply, still holding onto my best smile.

Ariel's suspicious eyes trail away from my girlfriend and daughter to meet my gaze. She offers me a small, but still very kind smile as she nods her head. "Thanks, Regina." I curtly nod as well and busy myself with twirling a bouncy curl of Hope's around my index finger.

"We don't usually come to Storybrooke often, but the last time I saw her I think she was two or three months maybe," Ariel questions, peering back at Emma, who is nodding along.

"I think so. She's nine and a half months," Emma informs the princess while showering our daughter with smothering kisses.

"Can I steal my baby cousin again?" Robin laughs as she reaches out for Hope, my baby girl already meeting Robin halfway.

"Sure," Emma places one more kiss to Hope's temple before Robin and Alice sneak away with my baby giggling at their funny faces.

"Is your mom here?" Ariel inquires, her eyes scanning over the crowded room. "I've been looking all over for her."

"She is...somewhere. Last time I saw her she was chasing Neal through a crowd," Emma and I both laugh at the memory of her frantic mother with sheer panic consuming her face as Neal ducked in between the crowd's legs and disappeared from view.

"Maybe I'll try the next room. Thank you two for the invite, I'm sure we will see you soon."

"Have fun," Emma cheers before Ariel and her husband vanish into the sea of people filling the room.

Movement from across the room catches my attention and I watch with great interest as Violet strolls confidently through the guests, with one destination in mind. I gently nudge my girlfriend's elbow and nod toward the corner.

"Shall we?" I whisper, but Emma is already nodding like a mad woman and tugging me across the room yet again to another one of our children.

"Wow, Violet...you...nice job growing up," Henry embarrassingly stutters provoking his cheeks and even the tips of his ears to burn crimson.

And technically, he's not wrong. It's been a very long time since I've seen this young girl, but now she must be around twenty-one and I must say, she is a very beautiful young woman. There are still a few freckles dusting across her nose and she still wears her hair down her back, but she's much taller now and her features have definitely matured.

"Thanks Henry," she genuinely laughs at my son's stupidity before extending her hand to his wife. "You must be Ella, it's very nice to meet you."

"You too," Henry's wife happily responds, smiling from ear to ear.

"Our daughter Lucy is around here...somewhere..." he trails off as he stretches on his tip toes and peers over the guests.

"I'm sure I will meet her soon," Violet smiles and there isn't even a hint of jealousy or bitterness as she speaks to the happy couple. "I'm so happy for you two."

"Thanks," Henry bashfully replies, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, did you ever speak with your dad?"

"I did," she shyly responds, not it's her turn for her cheeks to burn brighter than the red ribbons decorating this house.

"Violet," I interject, offering the young woman a warm smile.

"Hello Miss Mills, Emma."

"You can call me Regina, dear," I correct her, trying to bite back the smirk tugging around my mouth from the formalities.

"Hey Violet, how are you?" Emma asks, slithering her fingers in between mine and for a moment I stiffen because this is still so very new, but nobody in our circle seems to be paying attention so I breathe out a slow sigh of relief and focus back on the conversation in front of me.

"...so, yeah. One year left of college and I'm free."

"That's amazing. So, if I would have stayed in Storybrooke I would be around twenty-one right now? Dammit, I should have stayed," Henry muses with his charming smile set into place.

"Right? How's forty treating you?" Violet teases, earning laughs from everyone in the group.

"Hey I'm not forty yet," he firmly demands, but there's still that boyish smile consuming his entire face and for a split second I see Hope's smile as well.

"Two years?" Violet continues to hassle my son, with an award winning grin gracing her face.

Ella backhands my son across his bicep, in a playful manner and gazes up at him through heart filled eyes. "Hey! If you stayed in Storybrooke I would have never met you."

He drapes his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in tight against his chest before placing a rough kiss to her temple. "In that case, I'm glad I'm almost forty. Sort of." This earns him a nice sharp elbow to his ribs, but the couple both laugh, inspiring the rest of us to chuckle in return.

"Well, excuse me, I'm going to mingle. I'll see you two around," Violet politely excuses herself, strutting away with all the confidence in the world.

"She's so sweet," Ella murmurs into Henry's ear, prompting him to nod along with a permanent smile upon his face.

"She is. She will always be my best friend," he concludes, taking me by surprise because as I recall, they were certainly more than 'best friends'. "Moms, how is everything going? Nobody is giving you two a hard time right?" He seriously questions as his inquisitive eyes create a path down to where my fingers are linked with Emma's.

"Not at all kid," Emma brushes off the insinuation with conviction. "Who would want to cause problems against the Queen and her Sheriff?" She scoffs, a little too cocky for my liking because I can only assume her smart mouth just jinxed us. Then her fingers squeeze some reassurance into my hand and instantly eases the tension away from my tense body.

"Good. Mom? You okay?"

"Of course, honey," I wave him off and avoid his interrogating eyes, along with his wife's as well. "Don't you worry about us."

After a light conversation, Henry and Ella excuse themselves to search for Lucy, who we imagined was probably playing hide and seek with Neal. Emma pecked my cheek and disappeared as well, in search for more champagne and to check on Hope with Robin while I found something very interesting to pay attention to.

Off in the corner of my living room, away from the shoulder to shoulder traffic, my eyes locate the beautiful brunette from earlier. She's laughing and smiling uncontrollably as her fingers strums against her champagne glass. She seems genuinely happy with the company and much to my surprise her company is smiling wildly as well. Except the other woman's eyes express a more shy nature as she nervously tucks her hair behind her ear and her gaze keeps flicking between the floor and her companion.

My eyebrows pulls together as my head tilts to the side and I examine these two women hiding out in the corner. They both are uncertain, as their trembling fingers decide where is appropriate to land. It's all rather adorable how shy yet so happy they are in this private moment.

"Hey," Emma's cool voice startles my spying and snaps my attention back to the now.

"Hey," I croak out and quickly clear my throat while accepting my next drink. I nod toward the corner, silently commanding my girlfriend to pay close attention.

Those shining emeralds dance across the living room until she discovers the two quiet women. "Mulan looks great in normal clothes right? So much better than all that armor."

"Yes," I drag out the tiny word as my eyes roam over the pair again.

"My mom and I took Mulan dress shopping for tonight. We told her she was not allowed to wear her armor or you would kick her ass right out." I scoff in response, offended that she painted me as the bad guy, but she just smiles from ear to ear and kisses my cheek playfully and I forget to remain irritated at her. "Red is her color, she looks gorgeous."

"She does," I agree, tilting my head to assess the situation again. "Do you..." the words evaporate in thin air as I watch Violet so boldly steal a step forward and curl a chunk of hair behind Mulan's ear in the most timid yet endearing way.

"Uhhhh..." Emma stammers and I know she caught the display of affection as well. "You don't think..."

"I'm not sure," I mindlessly hum, my eyes glued to the scene playing out before me.

"I guess it makes sense, right?"

"Hmmm?"

"Well, Henry said Violet will always be his best friend...what if...maybe Violet discovered that boys weren't really her thing after dating Henry." She pauses, but only for a brief moment. "Isn't Mulan a lot older than Violet?"

"I haven't a clue how old Mulan is."

"I don't know how old anyone is anymore," she chuckles, persuading a smile to break across my lips. "I guess we just go by how old we feel, right? Because nobody here seems to be aging, except for Henry."

I blink a few times as the words sink into my brain and I slowly turn to meet my girlfriend's gaze, steering the conversation back to what she said moments ago. "Do you think that's why Henry really left? That's how he knew Violet wasn't his happy ending because she told him she was into other girls?"

"It makes sense. He just asked her if she ever told her dad, I mean he didn't go into specifics, but maybe that's what he meant?" She shrugs, casually sipping her drink as we allow this information to settle. "She seems really interested in Mulan...god I hope so. If there's one person who deserves a happy ending it's that poor woman."

I chuckle, catching my girlfriend's full attention and persuading my lips to capture hers. "You really are the Savior at heart, aren't you?"

"I can't help it, it lives and breathes inside of me," she teases as she cups my cheek and slowly kisses me with so much love and passion.

Gradually, her lips break apart from mine and as our eyes slowly flutter open, we both are forced to jump back by the rude interruption.

"Yuck! No kissing in front of me," a baby voice whines, while Hope giggles in between Emma and I, her pudgy hands reaching for our faces.

"Jeez!" Emma breathes out while I narrow my eyes at the culprit.

"Give me my daughter, Miss Lucas!"

"But Hope is having so much fun with Aunt Ruby, right?" She whines in another irritating baby voice as she settles Hope onto her hip.

"I believe the little rug rat wants to ride off with Auntie Zelena," my sister cackles as she sweeps right beside me and snatches my daughter from Ruby.

"Actually, it's some grandfather and granddaughter bonding time," David announces as he expertly steals Hope and scurries off into the crowd with her.

"Well, at least you are never short on babysitters," Ruby muses, swiping Emma's champagne glass and raising it up high to toast.


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

After Christmas, we were spilling into January, where Hope was persistent with pursuing the art of walking at ten months. She is the daughter of the Queen and the Savior so determination swims constantly through her veins. In a blink of an eye we were in the middle of February, with a perfectly capable walking eleven month old who spent most of her days trying to mimic the words that Emma and I spoke. Her attempts were still mostly babbles, but that didn't stop her.

Emma and I are not ones to gush over anniversaries or fancy holiday's to celebrate our love, but for this one occasion, I decided to surrender to society and plan a nice evening for Valentine's Day. Emma was shocked when I enlightened her on my plans, by the dumbfounded slack-jawed expression, but I ignored her knowing this was a step forward in our relationship.

"Don't make me tell momma," Emma's whispers resonate from the kitchen as I stroll into the room, finishing up with my earring.

Emma is flying a fork with a piece of broccoli attached through the air while her lips produce airplane noises, or what I assume is suppose to portray a plane.

"Em, have you seen my burgundy heels that match this dress?" I question as I pad across the tile and run my fingers through Hope's silky strands.

My girlfriend sighs, obviously exasperated in the moment and sets the fork back down. "I haven't. Maybe _your_ daughter should be interrogated."

"_My_ daughter?" I muse, skimming my fingertips down Hope's cheek and gently cupping her chin. "Why did mommy just disown you?" I softly ask, prompting big brown eyes to blink innocently up at me, just pleading for me to melt at her every whim.

"She refuses to eat," Emma scoffs, falling recklessly back against her seat and folding her arms. "And I know she likes chicken and broccoli," Emma accuses, narrowing her eyes at the puppy dog eyes peering back at her.

I hum to myself because Emma is right, our daughter loves this meal and she is never picky. I slowly pick up the fork, flying the broccoli through the air toward Hope's pouty lips that are all her other mother. My stubborn daughter grunts, _nuh-uh_, as she turns her cheek and slams her eyes shut, like maybe if she closes her eyes the broccoli might disappear and then it does. Vanishes from the fork in a blink of an eye, startling Emma and I into nearly a heart attack.

"What the f-"

"Emma!"

"Sorry, but Jesus! Did she just poof away the broccoli?"

This catches our daughter's attention, persuading just one eye to peek open so she can inspect the fork. She smiles in triumph when she notices the vegetable missing, inspiring her to open both eyes wide. She signs for the phrase, _all done_, flicking her wrists back and forth with excitement while attempting to speak the phrase as well.

"No, no!" Emma scolds immediately. "Not all done!"

"Hope," I slowly say her name in a low tone so she understands that she is in trouble. "What did you do?"

"Bubye," she proudly states with that glint of mischief sparkling in her eye, just like Emma when she took a chainsaw to my poor tree.

"No bubye," Emma bellows and I can't really tell if my girlfriend is on the verge of tears or holding back her laughter. "You need to eat your dinner little one!"

Hope's bottom lip puckers out in the most dramatic and pathetic pout imaginable. Those sad eye blink rapidly as she flicks her attention between Emma and I and for a brief moment I want to cave and scoop her in my arms. Subconsciously, I nibble on my bottom lip as I try to determine what would be appropriate in this moment.

"Regina, she's eleven months! What the hell are we going to do? She's just going to start poofing things away when she doesn't feel like listening to us? Oh god, what if she starts poofing us away-or herself when she doesn't get her way?" Emma frantically rambles as her mind trips over the notion of our daughter using magic.

"Emma, calm down," I strictly command.

"I can't calm down, our baby just made her broccoli disappear!"

"I know that, but yelling and becoming this upset isn't going to solve anything." I gently rest my hand upon Emma's shoulder to help ease her troubles. "We've discussed this before, we knew it was inevitable and only a matter of time before she figured out her skill."

Emma groans, scrubbing her hands down her face as she attempts to accept our daughter's fate. "I just- ugh, I thought we had more time. She's too little, she's not going to understand what's okay and what's not."

"Well, we will do our best to explain when it's appropriate and when it's not. We have to teach her."

"Can we revisit the option of the cuff?" She timidly questions, persuading my eyes to narrow in disapproval. "Just hear me out," she pleads, straightening her posture to regain authority. "We just have her wear it until she's four and completely understands everything we say. We can take it off whenever we want and practice with her when both of us are present, but this way we know she will be safe."

"Emma, I think we need to embrace her magic. We should teach her how to control it so she doesn't fear it. She may fear the magic after we place that stupid cuff on her. She needs to feel the magic everyday so she becomes accustomed to the sensation. I rather have her feel like it's apart of her than her feeling confused and growing up to resent it."

"Compromise?"

"I'm listening." I nod, encouraging her to proceed with her bargaining.

"I will try without the cuff, _but_ the moment she vanishes in front of us, you have to promise we use the cuff," she firmly negotiates.

"Fine," I reluctantly agree, even though I don't believe in that anti-magic cuff, but if things become too drastic with our daughter's safety then I suppose I must bend my beliefs a little.

I flick my wrist, creating a thick purple smoke to whirl in front of Hope, inspiring her eyes to triple in size. Her little fingers reach out in astonishment as she tries to capture this new fog. However, when her chubby fingertips slice through the smoke, she is left with a piece of broccoli in her hand and a deep scowl upon her face.

"Two can play at that game Hope, remember that. Now, eat your broccoli," I strictly order.

Hope's nose scrunches in distaste as her eyes flick over to her blonde mother for help. "Take a bite," Emma softly commands, but her eyes are hard leaving no room for argument.

Hope's frown deepens and it's actually frightening how much she resembles Emma in this moment. Much to her dismay, she takes a small bite, her gaze drifting to her plate to express her anger toward us and that she will not be engaging with us any longer.

"Good job, baby girl ," I praise as my hand runs over the back of her head. "Now, for my heels."

"I know this little monster was digging in our closet this earlier," Emma accuses with a playful smirk tugging around her mouth.

"She was?" I hum, but Hope seems awfully invested in her food now, ignoring her mothers altogether.

"Maybe check under the bed, I pulled her out from under there after I was done getting dressed."

I smile, my eyes greedily roaming down my girlfriend's enticing body to truly appreciate her attire for tonight. A very formfitting black leather dress starts at the base of her neck and encases her tiny frame down just below her bottom. It's awfully short, but she is wearing jet black tights beneath. Her arms are beautifully exposed, showing off her toned arms that might just be on my top five favorite things about Emma Swan. Then my eyes travel toward the shiny, full, bouncing curls that she styled so perfectly this evening.

I smile to myself and lean forward, noticing the necklace resting upon her chest with our children's names engraved on the back. "You look absolutely stunning tonight," I compliment just before I brush my lips ever so delicately against hers to ensure that I drive her a little mad and wanting so much more.

Her eyes drift closed, but then I'm sliding back and watching with great interest as a pout appears from my disappearance. "You look good enough to eat," she taunts, quickly cupping my neck and forcing my mouth back to hers.

"Eat!" Hope cheers, breaking apart our kiss in a split second.

"Yes Hope, eat," Emma states, her eyes trailing toward the food on our daughter's plate.

"You really need to start watching your mouth. She's copying everything you say now," I exasperate, untangling myself from her firm grasp.

"I didn't say anything wrong," she hastily defends. "Eat is a good word for her to copy."

I hum to myself, sashaying with purpose out of the room. "We both know that's not what you meant though," I toss over my shoulder as I exit the kitchen to locate my missing heels.

XXXXXXXXX 

Snow and David offered to take Hope this evening so Emma and I could enjoy our evening out, and we agreed to take Neal tomorrow night so they could have their own date night. After we dropped off our daughter, we drove out of Storybrooke for our dinner reservations. The trip is a good hour drive, but we are both so sick of the limited restaurants in town that we were both willing to make the journey.

I chose a very elegant Italian restaurant, knowing how much Emma loves her carbs. We were seated right away, both of us ordering wine and Emma jumping on the opportunity of an appetizer. Of course the beginning of our conversation was revisiting the topic of Hope and the cuff once more, because Emma is really uneasy about magic to begin with.

Soon, we ordered our meals, our topic of conversation traveling more toward the funny mishaps we've had with our wild child as of lately. It wasn't long before the waiter came by to refill our glasses of wine and retrieve our dirty plates. Emma practically leaped at the idea of dessert, ordering a brownie sundae like a small child, while I rolled my eyes like I was annoyed, but in reality I was thinking about how much I love this corky woman.

As soon as the waiter placed the chocolatey mess covered in ice cream and whipped cream in front of us, my nerves began to buzz viciously beneath my skin. It's close to the end of the night and I have yet to mention what I truly had in mind and the purpose of this evening.

"Oh my god," Emma moans shamelessly around a spoonful of sweets that makes her eyes roll in the back of her head. "Don't act like you are not a sweet tooth junkie," she demands, forcing her spoon back into the heap of ingredients. "Try this," she commands, driving the spoon straight toward my mouth as if I am our daughter.

"Em-" I don't even have the chance to finish her name, because she shoves the spoon into my mouth with a satisfied smile stretching into her cheeks, creating the adorable dimple I am madly in love with. I shake my head and quickly chew and swallow my bite, practically melting into my seat from the explosion of flavor against my tongue. "Really, Emma? I can feed myself," I bark out once, I compose myself.

She shrugs, chuckling under her breath as she admires another bite for herself. "I like shutting you up," she smugly replies. "You now what else I would like..." she slowly says, stretching out her words in a low and seductive tone and that only renders me speechless. "I would actually love if this whipped cream was all over your naked body," she suggests, her finger dipping into the fluffy cream, insinuating exactly what she has in mind as she licks her fingertip clean.

I lean forward, my heart slamming against the edge of the table as my temperature rises from the image flashing in my head. "Well, I believe that can be arranged," I tease right back, provoking those bright green eyes to flick toward mine curiously. "Maybe it will be your reward if you agree to my terms," I taunt, dipping my finger into the whipped cream as well and sucking the treat clean.

She swallows. She swallows so hard that I can see her tendons and muscles working painfully to accomplish the simple action. I smirk to myself and fold my arms over the table, knowing I have her undivided attention. My heart is pounding so hard that I swear Emma can hear the beat drum from across the table. My palms are sweating and I'm not entirely sure why I'm so nervous. I know in my heart there's no doubt on what her answer will be.

"Emma."

"Yeah," she croaks out, quickly setting down her spoon and meeting my gaze, sensing that there is a _moment_ clouding over our table.

"I brought you here this evening because I thought you deserved a nice evening out," she nods slowly, her curious eyes almost burning a hole right through my own eyes. "But also, because I would like to take our relationship to the next level."

She doesn't say a word and her face is completely blank causing the panic to rise within. If we weren't in a land without magic I would assume someone immobilized her on the spot. There might as well be a damn tumbleweed rolling passed our table. I swallow thickly and busy myself with adjusting the unused silverware because suddenly I'm very aware of my hands and I don't know where to place them.

"Emma, I would like you and Hope to officially move into my house."

"Oh god Regina, I thought you were proposing," she blurts out through a nervous laugh.

My face falls, an immense amount of stifling heat burns my cheeks and even my ears because now I'm even more self-conscious. Should I have proposed? The idea makes my stomach double over because it's just far too soon for something like that.

"I-" I have absolutely no words. Stringing together letters to form a word seems foreign in this moment. Not to mention, how inflated my tongue feels at the moment inside my mouth, leaving no room for clean oxygen.

"Regina, I love you a lot, but we've only been dating for a few months. I don't think we should be getting engaged just yet," she laughs in relief as she scoops up her spoon and digs right back into her dessert. "But I agree, I think we should live together," she concludes, flashing me her most shit eating grin which is like a fire hose to my burning body. I sigh in relief and lift my spoon as well, joining her in our dessert. "But why your house?"

I freeze momentarily, because I never even considered moving into her home. I clear my throat from the moment of bewilderment and slice through the dessert.

"Truthfully, the thought of moving into your home, never crossed my mind," I simply confess and continue biting into the layers of brownie and ice cream.

"Alright," she mumbles mostly to herself and fiddles with her spoon. "My house is very important to me, you know that."

"I do, but my house is where our family began with Henry and I."

"And my house is where our family continued when Hope entered the world," she counters, effectively shutting us both up while we try to come up with better excuses. "Look, it's the first home I ever owned, the first place that actually felt like home to me," she softly explains, even though I already know all of this.

"It's also the home that you created for you and Hook when we came back from Camelot," I defend, pointing my spoon in her direction like maybe that will persuade her.

Her mouth pops open to argue some more, but then it snaps shut and what I believe is realization and guilt washes over her face. She offers me a weak smile and shrugs nervously.

"I-I didn't think about it like that," she whispers, picking at the treat before her.

"I just wouldn't feel comfortable knowing you planned a life in that home with Hook."

"I know," her big puppy eyes trail back up to meet my gaze. "We can move into your home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure. All that matters is that we are under one roof, right?" She smiles just a little brighter and it does help soothe the anxiety I'm feeling about this entire situation.

Honestly, I've never lived with anyone before. Leopold does not count since I was forced into that predicament. Robin and I were close to the step, but he was either forced away by Marian or he would end up staying in the woods because for some strange reason that man thought the forest was the safest place for him and Roland. I've never been at this point in a relationship and it's a very scary leap. Sharing my personal space with someone will take some getting used to, but I know in my heart that I wouldn't make this jump with anyone other than Emma.

"Hey, maybe Henry will want to move into my house. His family is living in Mary Margret's old apartment, I'm sure they would love the space and a backyard for Lucy," Emma suggests, still shoveling more of that dessert into her mouth.

"I think that would be a lovely offer," I agree, smiling happily at my one true love like some lovesick teenager in heat.

"Alright, well I'll ask him and I can start packing my things this week."

A watery smile slides into place, without my permission and soon I find my hand reaching across the table for hers. "I do love you, Emma."

She flashes me the cheesiest cheeky grin and hums. "I love you too, Regina." She slithers her fingers in between mine, her thumb sweeping across the back of my hand to express the sincerity in her words.

There's a moment of silence where I watch her finish off her heart attack disguised as a brownie. She licks her lips and I just sit back and admire how comfortable she is in her own skin and that's definitely one trait that I absolutely love with all my heart.

"So, should we stop at the store on the way home?" She inquires with one eyebrow raised and a hungry glint shimmering in her eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" I curiously question because I'm not entirely sure what she's asking.

"I said yes to your proposition. My reward, you naked, whipped cream," she casually informs me like it's the most obvious explanation in the world.

A salacious smirk creeps across my mouth at the image of her velvety tongue lapping up the sticky treat decorating my flesh.

"Go pull the car around."


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

The warm morning sun is just peeking over the horizon, casting a beautiful shade of pink to paint my entire room. It's been one month of her familiar heat waking me up in the most glorious way and I'm still not accustomed to how wonderful moments like these truly are.

I still can't believe that after everything we've been through; from the first year of her showing up unexpectedly in Storybrooke to ruin my life, to Neverland where we came together as mothers. From our time in the Underworld through her marriage, California and even my cursed persona, we found our way back into each other's arms. It's a type of love that I only dreamed of with Daniel and found with the one person I never suspected. She knows me in ways that I never allowed anyone else to see and I can say with conviction that I love who I am when I'm safe in our own little bubble. For once in my life, I can breathe.

"Sleep," she grumbles into the curve of my neck, her hot breath coating my skin and causing me to squirm the slightest. "I can hear you thinking."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, pivoting in her arms so that our noses are just barely kissing.

A lazy smile creeps across her sleepy features, melting my heart like an ice cream cone on a blazing hot summer day. Her eyes are still peacefully closed so I take a minute to admire those adorable, yet, sexy freckles scattered across her nose. I itch to kiss every last one of them.

"The party is gonna be perfect," she mumbles, her sultry voice still thick with sleep.

"I know."

Gradually, her thick eyelashes flutter open causing her to squint until she's acclimated to the morning sun. I smile back at her, but she frowns in return.

"What's wrong?" She asks with her concern more evident in her voice.

"Nothings wrong, per say."

Those long talented fingers slither into the minimal space between us, sneaking beneath my silk nightgown and traveling up my thigh until her warm palm is possessively gripping my hip.

"Talk," she simply urges.

"Well, I'm still trying to sort out what Blue told us-"

"Which wasn't much," Emma scowls, her grip automatically tightening against my hip bone from her irritations.

"No, she was just as clueless as we were about magic babies, but have you thought about what she suggested?" I meekly inquire, because it's her body and ultimately her choice, but I am curious as to where she lands on the subject.

Emma inhales sharply through her nose and even though the action is so subtle, I still notice her sucking a piece of the inside of her lip between her teeth. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and she's either trying to figure out an answer or she has one and is terrified to clue me in on the matter.

"Em," I whisper, inspiring her eyes to pop open and meet my loving gaze. I tenderly curl her golden locks in disarray behind her ear and sweep the rest behind her back. "Please be honest."

"I know," she murmurs before taking one deep breath. "Regina, I love you so much and finally, in every inch of my heart and soul, I know I am where I need to be. I have never in my life felt so safe and secure and it has everything to do with the way you love me."

"But..."

"No, but's, I am so in love with you and I at least want one more baby of yours." Those green eyes express how petrified she is to admit her hopes for the future and her grasp tightens even further from her anxiety. "I want to experience the whole pregnancy and birth with you, I want another chance, but most of all I want you to experience everything."

I'm speechless, absolutely stunned into dumbfounded. I thought for sure she would want to protect herself from another magical mishap.

"D-did you...not..." I instantly silence her with a fierce kiss that forces her back into the mattress so I can easily maneuver on top of her.

"I want one more as well," I breathlessly confess against her pretty little lips.

She smiles from ear to ear against my mouth. "Seriously?" I nod my agreement and capture her lips once more, prompting her hands to guide sensually beneath my nightgown and up my bare back. "So, one more," she mutters into our kiss, just to be clear.

I slowly break away from her delectable lips and gaze into her lust filled eyes. "And after?" I timidly question just so we are certain and on the same page.

"And after we have our next baby, I will have my tubes tied so we will both be barren and no more surprises will occur. Do you think Blue is right though? Don't you think our bond could find a loop hole in that process as well?"

"I think it makes sense, we won't be able to conceive if we both cannot have children," I whisper, my thumb mindlessly tracing her bottom lip that I have an urge to sink my teeth into.

"Don't you think maybe I should drink whatever potion you did to guarantee that I cannot get pregnant again?" She seriously questions, commanding my full attention.

"I-I'm not sure."

"I think just because my tubes are tied, doesn't mean that I cannot carry a magic baby in my uterus. I think we need to make sure I'm completely barren."

"Emma, that's up to you, but the potion is permanent, irreversible."

"So is having my tubes tied, but I feel like the potion will be more effective when it comes to magic."

"Let's discuss it with Blue once more before we make any decisions. Besides," a salacious smirk slides into place as I suggestively grind my hips against hers in the most provocative and fulfilling way, "...we have plenty of time to decide because right now we need to focus on creating another miracle."

"Since we aren't sure how this works that means lots of sex," she firmly demands as I nod along and lean down to connect our lips once more while her nails scrape down my back in the most delicious way. "I mean it," she murmurs between wet kisses while I groan in response, rocking seductively against the heat emitting from beneath her shorts. "Like station sex," I moan at the idea of having the sheriff naked in one of her cells and definitely handcuffed. "Sex on your desk," I nod immediately, loving the idea of her taking me across my desk as we attempt to keep quiet or better yet, her hidden beneath my desk while she brings me to the highest of heights.

"Momma! Mommy!"

Emma groans in disappointment while I breathe out a frustrated sigh. "Why?" She whispers as I slowly crawl off of her.

"I guess sex at work will be our best bet," I mock, readjusting my nightgown and crawling off the bed while Emma's almost black eyes follow my every move.

"Momma! Mommy!"

"Why does our daughter hate us?" Emma groans, fixing her crooked tank top and smoothing down her unruly hair.

"She's just excited, it's her birthday," I happily inform my girlfriend before sweeping out the door, yet I still hear her grumbling from the hallway.

"She has no idea what a birthday is!"

XXXXXXXXX 

"Happy birthday Hope," Henry cheers as he lifts his baby sister into the air and flies her around playfully.

"Happy birthday," Lucy squeals as well while Cinderella kisses Hope's temple.

Henry settles his giggling sister against his chest and smiles like a lunatic back at Emma and I.

"Really moms? Peter Pan is the theme?"

"Look at your mother," I deadpan, rolling my eyes because we've been arguing about this for well over two months now.

"What?" The blonde shrieks in offense. "She hands me that DVD every damn day. It's her favorite!" I roll my eyes, whereas my son just laughs at his other mother and tickles Hope's stomach. "By the way, I have a surprise to go along with this theme," she happily replies and I don't even have the chance to question her before I see the obscenity strolling up to our front door.

The snickering becomes lost somewhere between the back of my nose and throat as I try desperately to keep my laughter at bay. Abruptly, I rip Hope from Henry's arms, taking him by surprise, so I can use my daughter as a human shield and hopefully she will control my laughter.

I quickly bury my face against Hope's and bite down hard on my lips to keep from belting out the most unladylike laugh. Henry whips around, puzzled by my poor behavior and it's not even a full second before his snickering begins as well.

"Knock it off you two," Emma scolds, just before her face switches to playful and she's beaming at the couple approaching.

"Luckily my outfit is the same," Tink's thick accent resonates and I have to close my eyes to calm myself before meeting their gaze. "But my poor boyfriend. You must really hate him, Emma," the fairy teases.

"Swan, I will never forgive you for this," Hook deadpans as Hope starts giggling and bouncing uncontrollably in my arms.

"But look how excited Hope is," Emma defends in her most innocent voice, but I know her better than anyone and I know she's dying on the inside as well.

"Hello Regina," Tink greets me, most likely noticing my avoidance.

"Hello Tinkerbell," I so very calmly reply and avoid the man beside her at all cost. "Hook," I mutter as Hope practically leaps from my arms.

"Hoo!" Hope squeals in delight, the '_k_' sound never quite making it passed her lips.

"Alright, I forgive you Swan," he grumbles as he reaches forward to take my ecstatic daughter into his arms.

Hope happily tugs on his fake mustache and wig, admiring how much he resembles her favorite movie in some cheap Halloween costume. I slap my hand over my mouth and fight against another chuckle brewing inside. Emma smiles, fully proud of herself for persuading this couple to dress up like the Disney characters.

"Fly!" Hope cheers as she points to Tinkerbell, inspiring the fairy to laugh along.

"Not today little one," she laughs, gripping Hope's finger and pulling her close so she can kiss her forehead.

"I cannot take you two seriously," I acknowledge. "Excuse me, I'm sure there's something I need to attend to," I lamely excuse myself, snickering along the way toward my kitchen.

"I did it for Hope!" Hook calls after me, but I just shake my head and continue laughing away.

"Gina, can I have some Goldfish?" Neal innocently asks as I enter the kitchen to find this little boy rummaging through my refrigerator.

"I think you know that little cheese fish do not live in my refrigerator," I tease, gently closing the door and scooping up the little boy to set him down on my counter, next to a rather large bowl of his favorite snack.

"Thanks Gina!"

"I thought we talked about this, it's _Re_gina," I over annunciate, but this five year old flashes me his most charming smile.

"Me and Ems like Gina better," he states with conviction, popping a few too many fish into his mouth.

"Did your sister put you up to this?" I inquire, narrowing my eyes at the little boy, but his innocent baby blue eyes and thick lashes blinking repeatedly, soften me in a heartbeat.

"There you are!" Snow bellows, her shrieking voice bouncing off my walls and assaulting my ears. "What is the matter with you boy? You have to stop running off!"

"Look who his parents are," I deadpan, running my fingers through his silky locks. "You spent half your life sneaking around."

"Not by choice," she replies with a cheeky smile as she steps beside me. "Neal, please stop running off without my permission," she pleads while he carelessly nods along, not at all interested in what she has to say.

"Neal, you need to listen to your mother," I strictly add on, catching his full attention.

Those beautiful eyes glisten as he peers up at me and studies my hard expression. He swallows his snack and nods slowly. "Okay, Gina."

"There's my sweet boy," I coo, placing a tender kiss to the top of his head.

"I love how you still call her Gina," Snow says to her son, nudging into my shoulder playfully.

"I must reevaluate you as a teacher at my schools," I muse, earning myself a playful shove.

XXXXXXXXX 

David lowers the lights, which seems to also be the switch that is attached to everyone's mouths as our guests all quiet down. The giant candle molded into the shape of a one flickers brightly in front of Hope as everyone begins to sing the most off key version of Happy Birthday.

Our joyful little girl, bounces in her highchair, always so ecstatic and full of life. Emma and I kneel beside her on either side, softly singing as our eyes seem to always roam back toward one another. Our baby girl is one year old already and there's an entire string of emotions trailing behind us as we attempt to make our way through this song.

Emma's eyes are filled with thick tears, refusing to fall and the way the candlelight reflects off those emerald irises creates the illusion of her eyes shimmering. I swallow down my own emotions because I can feel the warm tears filling my eyes. We made it. Somehow, through every life altering circumstance, Emma and I fought our way through and crossed the finish line. We found each other, our happy ending in our beautiful family that we created together.

"Blow Hope," Emma croaks out through her voice that is well on the verge of tears.

Hope smiles wildly and squeezes her eyes shut and the flame instantly evaporates before our very eyes. The entire room gasps in shock, because we have yet to reveal our baby's special talents, but she did, on her own, with a bang.

"Hope, honey, you have to blow like this," I softly say, demonstrating the act while Emma shakes her head and begins lighting the candle once again. "No magic baby girl. Just blow," I gently instruct.

The room is so eerily silent that a pin could drop and startle this entire group. Thankfully, nobody has the courage to mutter a word and disrupt Hope's concentration.

"Okay baby," Emma says as she pulls the cake a little closer. "Just blow," she breathes out a puff of air against Hope's forehead, fanning her little hairs all around and creating the most adorable giggle.

Hope mimics her mother, thankfully, and blows out the candle before her, prompting all our guests to clap in return. "Umm, ummm," Hope babbles, reaching for the cake while licking her lips in anticipation.

"I don't know what I am going to do with you two," I tease at how crazy my girlfriend and daughter become over sweets while I stand up and begin cutting the cake.

"I don't know, probably join us, don't act like you aren't going to sneak a piece tonight when you think I'm not looking," she easily tosses right back, while I simply roll my eyes at her childish ways. I will not confirm or deny with a group of people in my home.

"Who wants cake?" I cheerfully question, ignoring my girlfriend altogether, even though I notice her smug smirk beside me.

Carefully, I set down a piece of chocolate cake in front of Hope who eagerly grabs her spoon and dives right in.

"Bloody hell Regina, did you really give a one year old a spoon to eat her birthday cake?" Zelena cackles.

"Did you honestly expect Regina to raise a child and not teach proper etiquette?" My girlfriend sasses, eyeing me playfully.

Zelena quickly snatches my daughter's spoon away, creating an instant pucker from Hope's bottom lip. My sister guides her niece's hand into the cake, encouraging her to play with the fluffy dessert.

"Have at it, rug rat!"

Hope's stern eyes flick toward her feisty aunt, with a mean glint twinkling in her eyes, but before my daughter can decide on her next move, Henry is interrupting her thought process.

"It's your birthday, go crazy!" He enthuses, lifting her plate and smushing some frosting onto the tip of her nose.

"Henry!" I bellow, but he's chuckling a deep belly laugh, along with his blonde mother. "She's one," I scold.

Hope blinks her long lashes as she stares quizzically at her older brother. Those big brown eyes are assessing through a hard glare and I wonder if that's the face I make when someone annoys me. However, none of this matters because in the next second Hope's cake is flying through the air and smashing right into Henry's face. The entire room erupts into a fit of laughter as Henry stands stunned by the action.

"Hope!" Emma and I both call out in unison.

"Oh you wicked little thing," Zelena laughs, cupping Hope's chin proudly. "I cannot wait to have some fun with you."

"Over my dead body," I retort.

Snow hands Henry a wet paper towel to clean his face while David laughs uncontrollably.

"Magic babies are the best," Robin gushes before she presses a firm kiss to Alice's cheek.

"Hope, that's not nice," I strictly inform her. "Henry was bad too," I explain, narrowing my eyes at her older brother who smiles all too proudly, still covered in purple icing.

"How are you two going to handle her magic?" Snow seriously inquires, assisting Henry with the mess clinging to his eyelashes.

"We...are working on it," Emma exhales, still unsure how to navigate through something like this.

"One day at a time," I state, meeting Emma's sorrowful eyes to help settle her nerves about the entire situation.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

The vile sounds of Emma heaving up her breakfast echoes off the bathroom walls. Deep inside my heart, I'm relieved that we have both been compelled to listen to each other during these horrendous moments. I carefully sweep her hair behind her back and loosely braid her wild locks so no strands become abused during this time. Very delicately, I rub her back to soothe the terror inflicting inside of her and hold my breath as she violently throws up what I can only assume is a lung.

"Mommy sick?" Hope peeks her head around the corner, uncertain if she really wants to face whatever is tormenting her mother right now.

"Yes, baby girl, mommy is sick," I inform her, peering over my shoulder to discover my timid eighteen month old lingering in the doorway. "Can you climb back onto the bed and watch Mickey? I'll be right there."

Hope nods, eyeing her blonde mother carefully before she slowly steps back and disappears back into my bedroom. Emma falls back onto her heels, burying her face in her hands and groaning like a fierce lion ready to surrender to the circle of life.

"Em?" I only receive a terrifying moan in return. "Please, will you take the test now?" I softly inquire as if I'm tiptoeing my way through this conversation because I know deep down exactly how this will end.

She tenses immediately from the request, prompting my hand to continue rubbing soothingly up and down her back. She doesn't even have to speak and I already feel the knife twisting in my heart from the pain we've been suffering through.

"I can't."

"I think you need to."

"I can't take another month of disappointment," she mumbles into her palms and I know those pesky tears are lingering in the back of her dry abused throat.

"I know, Em-"

"It's been six months, Regina. Month after month of failed pregnancy tests. I can't take another," her voice quakes viciously, causing my own tears to swell from the heartache.

"Em-"

"No," she cries, spinning around on her bottom, folding her legs like a pretzel as her glossy eyes meet mine. "Maybe Hope was a once in a lifetime miracle. I mean Alice and Robin have yet to conceive and Alice is very magical."

"I know," I whisper, mirroring Emma's position on the cold bathroom tile. "Sometimes, I think the same thing and every month I die a little on the inside right along with you, but I really believe in my heart that you need to take this test now," I urge, enclosing the distance between us so I can place a reassuring kiss to her forehead.

My lips linger for a moment, basking in the familiar warmth emitting from her body and I feel safe and content when she's this close. I know in my heart that whatever we are suffering through right now will be overcome by our bond and deep love.

"Mommies," Hope's timid voice interrupts, along with a buzzing sound.

Emma quickly wipes away her tears as I turn to meet my daughter's gaze. She's standing in the doorway again holding Emma's phone that is lighting up most likely with another emergency.

"Can you bring me mommy's phone?" I gently ask, holding out my hand for the device, while Emma continues sniffling and wiping her face with her sleeve.

Hope runs over with a giant grin taking over her face, because this little girl loves when she is helpful, and drops the phone into my hand. She squats down and slowly crawls over to Emma, sensing the emotions rippling off of her blonde mother.

"No cry," she whispers, crawling tentatively into Emma's lap and wrapping her arms around her mother's neck.

This wins Hope a small chuckle from Emma as she smoothers our daughter in an overbearing hug. "I'm okay baby, my tummy just hurts," she reassures her, kissing the top of her head.

"Momma fix it," she happily concludes, creating the sappiest smile to spread across my face.

"You're right, momma always takes care of us," Emma states with conviction before reaching for her phone and checking the missed call. "Fu-" Emma stretches out her word as I narrow my eyes knowing her foul language is about to slip so carelessly off her tongue. "Fu-dge-sicle Rufio," she horribly corrects herself, luckily our daughter is none the wiser and just blinks curiously at her mother. "Tink just texted me."

"Well, let Henry deal with him," I firmly reply, because there's no way I'm allowing her to leave after spending all day with her head in a toilet.

"You know I have to fill out all the paperwork, besides this is the third time they are bringing him in, something needs to be done," she attempts at arguing, but her pale complexion and dark circles below her eyes are not helping her argument.

"Then call David, he knows what to do. You are not going."

"You can't just tell me I'm not going," she lazily replies with an eye roll.

"I can and I just did," I smugly retort, reaching for her phone to call her father, but she's quick to dodge.

"It's cute how you believe you have the upper hand," she says with a dopey grin as she stands on her wobbly legs. A one year old has a more sturdy balance than my girlfriend right now.

"Emma, I am serious. You're not feeling well, it's not wise for you to go in today. There are plenty of other people that can handle Rufio."

I scramble to my feet when I notice her ignoring my plea and padding right out of the bathroom, with Hope as her shadow, like always. For a split second, my anger dissipates as I watch my daughter follow her mother, she's Emma's little shadow and it's the most precious view my eyes have ever been graced with.

Yet, Emma's hopping as she tries to worm her way into an awfully tight pair of jeans reminds me that I am furious with the stubborn blonde right now.

"Emma please, call your father. He will be more than happy to help out. You're not feeling well."

"Momma, up," Hope asks as her little hands reach out for me, prompting me to quickly scoop her up and settle her on my hip.

"Regina, I'll be fine. I'll grab a Gatorade to replenish my system before I go to the station," she mindlessly replies while I watch with one eyebrow raised as she buttons her blouse.

I scoff, slowly sitting Hope down on the bed before sauntering over toward my girlfriend. "You're fine?" I suspiciously question, ducking down to meet her tired eyes, but she's concentrating on each button like it's a ticking time bomb.

"Mmhmmm."

"Really?" I exasperate, gripping the collar of _my_ shirt and tugging her frail body flush against mine. She stumbles, but my fierce hold and body catch her. Instantly her green eyes are on me, wondering what the hell has gotten into me. "This is my shirt, Emma."

She blinks, then she blinks again before her eyes drift down like a feather against a gentle breeze. The corner of her mouth deepens as her brain tries to comprehend the mistake and I don't have to wait long before the beautiful blush stains her cheeks.

"Whatever. I have to get going," she shrugs off the moment and attempts to take a step back, but my fingers curl deeper into the fabric and hold her firmly into place.

"I am not happy with you, you understand this, correct? I don't think you should be leaving."

"I know, but I promise I'll be back as soon as I'm done. I swear. Now please let me go brush my teeth," she pleads, encouraging me to release her so she can hurry up and come home.

I sigh heavily as I study her slow movements back into the bathroom. She's physically drained, but that's never stopped this woman before. I just know in my heart that she's carrying our next child and I have never felt this passionate about a possible pregnancy before. Every month that she bounced happily into the bathroom for that test, I never felt like it would end with her running out of the bathroom and leaping into my arms to show off the stick. And now, now I swear I can feel some sort of connection to her, I swear we created another miracle.

"Momma? We watch Peter Pan?" Hope innocently questions, as she stands on my bed with the DVD held up high.

My eyes flick down to her brown eyes that are practically glowing in a warm honey, and tilt my head to the side. "This movie was downstairs, did you use magic?"

Her thin bottom lip immediately pops out as she slowly nods. "I sorwee momma."

"It's alright baby girl," I quickly lift her into my arms and place a comforting kiss to her temple. "Remember what momma said though? No magic without me _and_ mommy."

"Okay momma," she nods enthusiastically and there's just no way I can remain agitated with her.

So, I put on the movie per my daughter's request and climb into bed with Hope snuggling into my side. A Sunday evening curled up in bed, watching movies and listening to the rain dance against my roof sounds like a perfect night. Too bad Emma won't be here as well, I know these are her favorite times spent as a family.

"Alright, I'll be back soon," Emma says as she exits the bathroom, appearing less disheveled than before.

It seems she has tried to cover up her raccoon eyes with my makeup and she left the braid I loosely assembled from earlier. Even this overly tired and washed out from vomiting all day, she is still the most stunning woman I have ever laid eyes on.

She bends down and kisses the top of Hope's head before leaning over to lightly graze her lips against mine. "Be careful," I murmur as she pulls away.

"I'll be back before you know it," she states before her heavy feet pad away.

"Oh and Emma," I call out just as she reaches the door. She peeks over her shoulder, one hand resting against the doorframe as she meets my gaze. "Enjoy my shirt," I seductively call out, knowing how much that small phrase means to both of us.

This gorgeous woman smirks as her lips twist and turn to fight against her laughter. She slaps the doorframe while shaking her head at me and I think I just fell even harder for this woman.

"I will and I know it's not all I'll be getting from you," she winks before strutting away with her head held high.

XXXXXXXXX 

Every profanity is tumbling from Emma's mouth as she writhes wildly against my mouth. Her fingers are buried deep in my hair, and with every orgasm I grant her tonight, her grip becomes rougher, animalistic. This is the third time she has woken me up tonight to settle her insatiable desires. How could I ever deny this woman anything?

After her Rufio emergency, she arrived home well after I put Hope to bed. Emma crawled on top of me, while I was dead asleep, peppering my cheek and neck with hot kisses as her hips swayed against my backside until I woke up. I quickly spun around and made love to her, slow and sensual, not at all in any hurry. We took our time, memorizing, exploring, worshiping until we were both swept away.

Afterwards we had fallen asleep, but I don't believe it was too long before she slipped beneath the sheets and decorated my skin with her wet kisses. Round two was hurried, craving and needing another release that came all too quickly, leaving us panting, heaving messes and drifting right back to sleep.

The third time, I'm fairly certain that Emma was still asleep as her hand discovered the world between my thighs all on its own. When I woke up, her eyes were shut and her face looked so peaceful, but her hips were grinding and her hand was exploring and now my face is buried between her legs, driving her absolutely insane.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She shrieks, causing me to wince and send a silent prayer that our daughter didn't just hear that.

Her thick essence coats my tongue and fingers as her body hazardously falls back against the mattress. She's gasping for air, like it's her last chance to breathe clean air, producing a smug smirk to grace my lips. I peek through my eyelashes and watch as her heavy chest rises and falls rapidly. I swear this woman could be a swimsuit model if the whole Savior thing didn't work out.

My palms glide up her prominent ribs, admiring each dip and protruding bone along the way while I worship her bikini line with wet kisses. Her breasts are swollen, it's as obvious as her own damn name, yet she's still in denial. My hands slither up her body, covering her engorged mounds and loving the way her erect nipples scrape against my palms. I squeeze, gently though, mindful that they are indeed swollen and study the way her back arches in delight.

"Fuck, I love you," she gasps as her eyes slowly pry open to peer down at me.

I place a firm kiss to her stomach, right below her navel and linger. I inhale sharply, her warm vanilla scent mixed with sweat and sex clouds my mind, causing my eyes to flutter closed. I take a moment and really just concentrate on the feeling swarming around me.

"Em?"

"Hmm?" She lazily replies, delicately running her fingers through my hair.

"You don't feel that magic?"

I don't even have to look at her to know her permanent frown is deepening into a full on pout. It's different the magic flowing in the air and I know it's not hers or mine. It's similar to Hope's, but I know it's not hers either.

"A little? I-I don't know," she mutters mostly to herself and I can tell she's frustrated, I'm just not sure why.

I sigh against her stomach and slowly crawl up her body, tenderly soaking her skin with my kisses. She turns her head, granting me access to her sensitive neck so I obey her silent request and scrape my teeth along the column of her neck. She moans, already squirming and needing so much more of me, but I need something from her first.

I trail my lips over her jawline and toward her mouth where I capture her lips into a passionate kiss that steals her breath away. Gently, I nudge my nose against hers, encouraging those stunning eyes to meet mine.

"Em, I _need_ you to take a pregnancy test," I urge and instantaneously she deflates. "Please, I sense a different type of magic in this room and I never felt magic when you were pregnant with Hope."

"Great! Our next kid is going to be even more magical," she exasperates.

"Maybe Hope didn't develop her magic until later? I'm not sure, but will you please take the test," I plead, brushing my lips against hers to help convince her into surrendering.

She inhales sharply, like the action is almost painful and I hold my breath. "Regina, it's like," her head tilts back so she can inspect the clock glowing a vibrant red through the night, "three thirty in the morning," she complains, but I ignore the grumble in her throat and press slow sensual kisses along her chest. "Fine," she reluctantly agrees and swats my bare bottom, signaling for me to crawl off of her.

"There's a brand new box under the sink," I whisper, hopelessly attempting to keep my excitement at bay in case I am incorrect.

Chills run down my spine and tingle every nerve in my body as I observe every muscle in Emma's back clench as she clambers out of bed. I purse my lips, trying to keep my smirk hidden as she struts confidently into the bathroom, her full naked bottom on display for my greedy eyes. I scurry right out of bed and chase the gorgeous woman into the bathroom.

Even though the bathtub is freezing cold against my naked flesh, I still sit down on the edge, clutching the porcelain as Emma rummages under the sink. She quickly tears open the package and her trembling hands do not go unseen by my eye, but I choose not to comment.

She carefully sits down on the toilet and does this adorable little head bob as she waits for her body to cooperate. I bite down on the corner of my lip, admiring how adorable and sexy she is all at once. It helps calm down my thumping heart and anxious nerves for what's to come. I don't think our hearts can survive another negative test.

Soon, she caps the pregnancy test and sets it down on the vanity. My toes tap against the cool tile as I try not to grow too impatient. It's been six months and Emma and I so desperately want this baby. We are so grateful for Hope and we are so lucky that we were even able to conceive her. We've just come so far in life and we would like to experience everything together for once. This time, we swear we'll get it right from the beginning.

Emma peeks over at the test, grasping my full attention. "Emma! Don't jinx it, it hasn't even been a full minute."

"It doesn't matter," she breathlessly whispers.

"What?" I'm already on my feet and marching straight to the counter.

"It doesn't matter! It's already positive!" She shouts, gathering up the test and staring dumbfounded at the word, _pregnant_.

"What? Already?"

"Yeah, it clearly doesn't need to think about it. It's like bitch, you're pregnant," she laughs as thick tears stream down her face.

"I told you, I told you," I scold playfully as I pull the test closer so I can inspect that beautiful word.

"Regina, I..." the words die on her tongue, persuading my watery eyes to meet hers. We both swallow thickly as too many heartfelt emotions crawl their way to the surface.

"I love you. I love you so much," I choke out as my hands cup her wet cheeks and pull her into a searing kiss.

My heart pounds murderously and I'm not sure if it's because of the excitement and adrenaline of our big news or if it's because this woman always kick starts my heart in a way that nobody else ever could. And I melt, I melt like some sappy girl in one of Emma's romantic comedies and mold perfectly against her bare skin.

Emma drapes her arms around my neck before breaking the kiss and burying her face into the crook of my neck, soaking my hair with her tears of joy.

"God, I love you so much," she murmurs.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

"Bed? I can't sleep now!" She demands, pulling away from my embrace.

"I know that, but it's cold and we are naked," I laugh, pulling her back into our bedroom.

We quickly crawl beneath the comforter, Emma laying on her back while I lean on one elbow and kiss her once more. She inhales sharply, like she's trying to drink me in and hold onto this moment forever.

"I am so happy, Em," I whisper against her smiling lips as my hand travels down toward that flat stomach that holds my baby.

Instantly, those tears are back, blurring my vision and making it almost impossible to breathe through these emotions. The back of her knuckles sweep along my jaw before she cups my cheek tenderly.

"This moment is perfect. After finding out about Henry like I did and the same with Hope, I just...this, right now makes up for all of that. This could not be anymore perfect." A few tears trickle down my cheeks and splash onto her chest before I lean down and peck her lips again. "Ahhh! We are having a baby!" She squeals in delight.

"Baby number three that we are going to raise together," I happily reply as my hand protectively splays across her abdomen.

"It's gotta be another girl, right? There's no sperm to contribute a Y chromosome, right?"

"I'm not sure. This is all magic, biology and anatomy is tossed completely out the window," I explain, causing both of us to laugh.

Very carefully, I slide on top of her naked goddess figure that will soon change from the life we created out of our love. I lightly brush my lips against hers before wetting my lips and skimming down her chin, passed her neck and across every inch of her chest. Her long fingers thread gently through my hair as she squirms beneath my featherlight kisses. My nose and lips coast down the valley of her swollen breasts until I land just where I want to be.

I place another meaningful kiss to her abdomen and whisper, "I love you," to my unborn child.

My girlfriend sighs in relief, gently massaging my scalp as I linger. "Regina, I want you to name the baby, since I named Hope."

My eyes flick to meet her watery gaze. "I named Henry," I counter, resting my chin delicately against her stomach.

"True," she laughs, sniffling away the tears that are threatening to spill over the brim.

"I like the idea of keeping up with the H's. Henry, Hope..." I trail off and watch as her eyes dance with unconditional love.

"I agree. Do you have any suggestions for a boy?" She inquires as her fingers slip down toward my jaw and her thumb tenderly caressing my cheek.

"Harris?" I suggest, but by the immediate nose scrunch from Emma, I know that's off the table.

"Hayden?" She counters, her head tilting to the side causing her to appear so much younger than she truly is.

"That's...not bad..."

"How about girls?" She questions as her thumb traces the outline of my bottom lip in the most endearing way imaginable. "I have a feeling it's a girl."

I chuckle before nipping at her thumb, producing the most adorable smile to grace her face. " I have the perfect name for a girl," I taunt.

Slowly, I dip my head back down and kiss the home that's keeping my baby so safe and secure. I whisper another_ I love you_, right before I murmur her name.


	40. Epilogue

The warm morning sun is glowing through the window as the coffee pot drips a steady rhythm and the bacon sizzles in tune. Another Carole King melody is filling the air as I cut up some melons for breakfast and for a brief moment it's peaceful. That is until the sound of shattering glass echoes through the mansion and bounces off the walls with rage.

"Dammit," I mutter under my breath and quickly turn off the stove before rushing into the family room.

My six year old is staring wide eyed at her sibling while her baby sister is kneeling down in front of a completely smashed vase.

"She did it!" They both shriek in unison when they notice my presence.

"Hailey, please don't move," I frantically urge, terrified that her palms or knees might be inflicting with the shards of glass scattered across the floor.

I hastily flick my wrist, cleaning up the mess then proceed to fold my arms across my chest, silently demanding that one of them better speak up now. Brown eyes against green eyes in a standoff that I know Hope will win. She's always been the more feisty of the two whereas Hailey is confident, but she always seems to surrender first when going against her older sister.

My youngest, who I swear is my twin, except for her mother's stunning eyes, blinks up at me and slowly stands tall. She nervously fiddles with her fingers while she contemplates what her next move is.

"Hope used magic first," she firmly demands, but there's still a twinkle of guilt flashing across her bright green eyes.

"Ugh," Hope lamely protests, crossing her arms across her chest. "You're the one that made the vase fly!"

Both brunette's scowl at each other and for a moment I panic, because what the hell am I going to do when these two are teenagers? They are both far too smart and strong willed for their own good.

"You know how mommy feels about magic in the house," I firmly recite what both girls know by now. "Hope, what are the rules when it comes to magic?"

She nibbles on her thin bottom lip and rocks anxiously between her feet. "Both mommies have to be there," she sheepishly replies, before I direct my attention to my youngest.

"Hailey?"

"Only magic in the vault," she mumbles, mostly to herself.

"So, please explain to me why you two were using magic not only in the house, but when mommy and I weren't even here," I strictly order, causing both girls to squirm under my stern tone.

"I'm sorry, momma," Hailey sincerely whispers as her big doe eyes bat in my direction, instantly melting my heart, but I stay strong.

"I'm sorry too, momma. We were just having fun and the magic started coming out," Hope admits, twirling from side to side as she waits for her punishment.

"I understand that when you two are excited, the magic inside of you wants to come out, but you two need to learn to calm down. Someone could have been severely hurt," I sadly reply, creating two matching Emma pouts in return.

"Please don't tell mommy! She won't let us do magic anymore," Hope regretfully says.

"Hope, you know I have to tell mommy." This produces a whimper from both my little girls. "Now, upstairs, in your rooms to clean while you think about what you did."

I escort both brunettes toward the stairs and watch as Hailey practically crawls up in shame while Hope pounds her little feet against each step. Once they reach the top step, I call out to them, knowing exactly how these two work.

"And stay in your separate rooms! No sneaking off into each other's room to play!"

Hailey grumbles this time while Hope remains quite and they both disappear into their bedrooms. I sigh, shaking my head to nobody, but myself, that is until the front door opens and closes behind me.

"Hey," Emma softly greets me as she comes home from a long overnight shift, but her smile morphs into a frown when she notices my expression. "What did they do?" She deadpans, kicking off her boots.

"Don't get all _Emma_ and freak out," I firmly declare as I stroll closer to my wife.

"My how the tables have turned," she chuckles, sliding her hands around my waist and pecking my lips. "I remember a time when I was saying those exact words to you about Henry."

"Yes, well...someone needs to be levelheaded when it comes to magic." Her face falls instantly as her breathing becomes shallow. "It's fine, the girls were getting a little too rowdy and Hailey accidentally coaxed a vase to fly through the air."

Emma chuckles under her breath as she shakes her head at me. "You certainly have a way with words." She leans in for a brief kiss before attempting to release me. "I should go talk to them."

"I already did," I reply, pushing her back until she's up against the door.

"Yeah, by the cool mom who likes magic. Maybe they will be more conscious next time if the strict mom yells at them."

"I resent that," I scold, roughly pressing my body up against hers. "We both know I am the strict mother," I demand, ghosting my lips over hers as bait until she agrees to my terms.

"The girls are so well behaved. I don't know," she muses with a cocky smirk. "Maybe you're loosing your touch."

"Or maybe you just need a reminder of who is really in charge," I husk, my warm breath coating those delectable pink lips, inspiring Emma to lick them in return.

"Kiss me and I'll surrender," she whispers, nudging her freckled nose against mine.

"Surrender and then I'll kiss you," I counter, pressing my body more firmly against hers, but keeping my mouth at a teasing distance.

"Mommies?"

Emma and I both exhale slowly out of sheer disappointment that we were interrupted. I rest my forehead against hers as I call out in response. "Yes, Hailey?"

"I cleaned my room, can I play with Hope now?"

"I'll go," Emma whispers as she captures my lips in a sensual kiss that leaves my body tingling and needing so much more. "I'm coming Hailey bug, but we need to have a talk."

"Okay mommy."

I smile at the two before finally making my way back to the breakfast I had started to cook. I start up the burner for the bacon again and resume chopping the fruit.

Hailey Faith Swan-Mills was born in May, right after Hope turned two and I finally witnessed a child of mine being born. It was a beautiful day, abnormally warm and one day that I will never forget. I was a nervous wreck, but I will never admit that to Emma because I spent every second making sure that she was comfortable.

Snow and David waited in the lobby with Hope and Henry and his family as well. They waited twenty grueling hours because little Hailey was stubborn and was refusing to greet the world. At one point I thought Whale was going to demand a C-section before Emma passed out from the never ending labor. Eventually, our youngest and final baby was born.

There is nothing that compares to watching a child you create come into this world. Emma and I were both blubbering messes, soaked with tears and giggling from the amount of joy swimming through the air. Hailey was eight pound, seven ounces, two pounds heavier than Hope when she was born and Emma still blames that on me, claiming that I constantly shoveled food into her mouth in fear that the baby was hungry.

One month after Hailey was born, Emma and I revisited the discussion regarding protection from another magical miracle. We have three wonderful children that we raised together, four with Wish Henry. However, he stays mostly in the Wish Realm and usually only visits during holidays. He likes to keep to himself, that's just his personality, but he did find happiness with Grace, Jefferson's daughter.

We decided that we were done having children and despite what we think, we are growing older now. So, Emma chose to drink the potion to ensure that she could never carry another child again. I tried to convince her to consider the medical procedure of having her tubes tied, but she figured magic could over power that so she fought magic with magic. We just couldn't imagine being sixty and having another magic baby surprise us.

One year after that, when life was just beginning to settle down with two babies in the house, Emma proposed. It was a beautiful brisk day in the fall when the leaves were just beginning to change every vibrant red, orange and yellow color. She made a picnic for the girls and I beneath my apple tree and told the cutest story about how she cut down a branch, pointing to the mark she left behind. Afterwards, she kneeled down before me as I sat with our girls upon my lap and she asked if I would marry the crazy fool who took a chainsaw to the prized possession. One year after that, we were wed.

Much to our surprise and utter shock, really, not one of the other couples were able to conceive a magic baby like Emma and I. Ruby and Dorothy, ended up adopting the cutest little boy named Wyatt. Robin and Alice are still keeping their fingers crossed, but they enjoy traveling so much that they aren't too concerned with children at the moment. Mulan and Violet really aren't magical in any way, so this didn't come as a surprise, but they did try a sperm donor and Violet is now carrying their second child.

"Alright, no more magic in the house," Emma says, clapping her hands together. "For now," she winks playfully as she slides up behind me and nips my ear. "Now, where were we?"

"Finishing up with breakfast. You know your daughters will be running down those stairs any minute now like hungry wolves. They did come from you," I muse, bumping my hip into hers.

"This is true," she hums happily as she pops a piece of bacon into her mouth. "Girls, breakfast!" She bellows as she busies herself with pouring two mugs of coffee.

"How was work? Are you exhausted?"

"Yes, but it's fine. I just need like a two hour nap and then we can go."

"You can sleep in the car," I suggest, pushing the eggs between four different plates.

"Like I would let you drive the bug to New York," she scoffs, just as the familiar sound of our children's feet come trampling down the stairs.

"If you insist," I sing song and set down the dishes for the girls as they climb into their seats.

"You always sit on the passenger side," she places a kiss to my cheek and smiles wildly, "where you belong, right beside me."

"Always," I hum, gripping her chin and capturing her adorable grin.

"Girls, you ready for our first trip outside of Maine?" Emma cheers as we join our daughters at the table and they both squeal in delight.

"Where should we go after this trip?" I inquire, watching my family with a stupid grin across my face.

"California!" Hope enthusiastically shouts out.

"Yeah! Mickey and Minnie are there," Hailey agrees with her sister as both of their faces light up in pure joy.

"How about it Madam Mayor, a trip to Cali?"

"Where it all began, Miss Swan?" I playfully tease, leaning in close to her warm vanilla scent that still makes my heart skip a beat. She nods, drifting closer to my lips like a magnet before she whispers...

"Where it all began."

_And they lived their second chance to the fullest..._

_A/N: Thank you all so much for the support and dedication to this story, this is the longest story I have ever written. I'm so thankful for every read, every vote, every comment. I am so honored and so thankful that I even have people read my stories. I do have another story outlined, but I am going to take a step back and I'm not entirely sure for how long. Being an author means receiving negative comments along with the positive and it does become mentally draining. So, I'm going to take a very long break, hopefully I will be back. Thanks again for all the love and support, it really does mean the world to me!_


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